We had known each other for seven years and been friends for about four. We were students together and now we worked for the same firm. It had recently become general knowledge that one of the spas in the city, owned by the city as a communist legacy, was to close permanently. As architects, we needed to see this famous architectonic landmark for ourselves. Neither Tom nor I had ever been to such a place and we certainly felt quite awkward removing all our clothes and wandering around the hot and cold pools, the dry sauna, the steam room and the former massage room that now served as a place for resting. Resting from what one might wonder. A trip to the sauna was hardly a great exertion. Or was it?
When we both stripped, it was suddenly clear to me why Tom had never had a girlfriend in all these years. Despite his great body and good looks, his warmth and kindness towards people, his intelligence and sense of humour, he has remained singularly single. We never discussed it, let alone hypothesized why this might be the case. My life to date has been a string of two and three night stands, which I stopped mentioning to him as there was precious little he could contribute to the conversation. He would feel awkward and then so would I.
When we both stripped, it was suddenly clear to me why Tom had never had a girlfriend, and why we had never seen each other naked. His cock was smaller than mine was before the onset of puberty - flaccid. I hadn't seen many cocks in real life, a few in swimming pool showers, and after sports matches as well as the odd newsworthy streaker. No cocks on display in the family home, to be sure. The design and dimensions of the genitalia of the gentleman in the sauna aroused not only interest, but aroused me. My little fella was respectably above what I assumed was average and had often received praise from those whose orifices it had entered. Although I'd never given dick size much thought, I've always been my kit's greatest fan, probably only fan - I love it being a perfect cylinder, its steel-hardness encased in a pure white soft skin covering that shows up its veins. Some people have huge noses, distended bellies, varicose veins, big boobs, skinny legs, sticking out ears, but by and large penis size was not something I'd ever lent much head space to.
But now, seeing Tom's weenie wiener next to mine, one of many places it had never been, a whole vista of human experience started opening up to me. Tom was suddenly a whole new person. My best friend has finally let today be the day when he lets it all hang out. This architectural excursion was his idea. And even though neither of us had been to a sauna before he must have expected nudity to play some role. Really, I never imagined a guys dick could be so small. I felt really sorry for him. If the smallest penis on the planet belonged to anyone but my best friend, I'm sure I would have laughed.
I had been expecting that Tom and I would be admiring the Jugendstil design of the building and its facilities, and we'd be having this great professional banter. Instead there was not only a gulf of silence but a physical distance too -- he didn't even sit with me. He looked terribly morose. And this wasn't doing me much good, I can assure you. I noted it as the saddest day of our friendship.
It seemed so unfair to have everything going for you, except for this one little thing. Tiny, actually. My favourite person in all the world. My poor little Tom.
Since he was avoiding me, I was alone in the Swedish sauna, sitting on the wooden benches with my dick dangling down. An older gentlemen came in and was clearly enchanted with its size. I doubt that he was admiring its beauty per se. He stood looking at it, without the slightest hint of discretion. He fondled his own modest toy presumably in the hope that mine would wood. As it happened, a little blood did pump in as I lightly juggled my balls around. Why did I do that? This show and tell came to an abrupt end when another older gentleman entered unannounced. The first one was visibly annoyed by the intrusion. When the second also started ogling me and fondling himself, I started to wonder if Tom and I hadn't stumbled across a closing down venue for homosexuals. This was a little alarming. This alarm registered in my cock. With a mind of its own, it really started to plump up. I thought I should jump up and leave, but Tom would no doubt see me in this distended state, and this was hardly the preferred option. The feeling of being admired like this by two mature guys curiously delighted me. And very much surprised me. I suddenly wanted to jerk off right now. Not only because it would go down afterwards, but this sexy feeling was a new experience that was anything but abhorrent. If I touch my cock now, it'll be a sign, which I was not certain I wanted to give. I looked at their cocks, and although both were smaller than mine, they were both twitching hard. These two men didn't acknowledge each other, but had clearly played this game before. They were not competing for me, rather they seemed to share the feeling that they could share me. That was not going to happen but I was taking more and more delight in being admired. Both of the men were stroking their tummies and chests and one even pinched his own nipple. Do guys have sensitive nipples? This was getting weird and too fascinating to stop. I was pretty hard now and when a wee shiny translucent pearl dripped out of my slit, the first guy moaned and licked his lips. Their gaze fixed on my twitching cock. I fired a wodge of semen onto the floor between them. I had barely felt it coming. It wasn't a big load in itself, but when it was very soon a cocktail of three loads, it formed quite a puddle. Quick as a flash, I was as flaccid as the day I was born and wondering what the fuck that was about.
I sought Tom out. When I got into the relaxation room, the only other man there apart from Tom was just leaving. He wore a smile that was reflected in his waning cock. There was no doubt that it had been erect very recently. When Tom saw me coming in, his face reddened and there was a little quiver in his voice when he asked where I'd been so long. There was a little quiver in mine too and I wondered if he had indulged in something similar.
As we left the unobserved building, we didn't head for our usual Jugendstil café. He mumbled something about not being in the mood. See you tomorrow at work and stuff. I went to our café, sat with my laptop and wrote him a long email -- not one that I would send, just one that helped me articulate my thoughts and feelings. It must have been this process in this place in this company, that is without Tom, that made me realise that I had to take the lead now, be the "adult" in this relationship. But in order to do so, I had a lot of questions in need of answers. Do you feel as self-conscious about your teeny weeny as I assume? Does it run in the family? If so, how were you conceived? Are there many like you? It's just a bell curve, right? I must be a good bit above average judging by the few that I've seen. And the men in the sauna this evening were perhaps even less than. With two arresting exceptions. Do you use tweezers to masturbate? Is it a medical condition? Can penis enlargement really work? And then the biggest question of all, is Tom a virgin?
At work he was fine. Nothing seemed different unless you count our boss putting us in different teams for a project, for the first time. Was I getting paranoid? It was more obvious outside work, the good ole days were clearly gone. We still hung out but it just didn't feel the same. Maybe it was me. It was starting to bug me and I wanted our old friendship back. I wanted to return to the sauna with him, leave it together and take the path we didn't follow the first time. But that was impossible for the simple reason that the sauna had closed for Christmas and for good. It was also impossible because things only happen for a first time once. This is one mean fuck of a zugzwang we've found ourselves in.
A more tangible place we found ourselves in was a queue late one cold winter's night to get into a nightclub disco smoke-filled shit hole that one of the guys from work had invited us to for his stag party. I was in the mood for a shag myself, having had all such wanton desires quashed because I had let the size of Tom's little button preoccupy me.
There were some very attractive women in the club. I am never sure if they are dancing with each other because they are single or because their boyfriends can't or won't dance. I love dance and I'm a hot dancer. Girls love dancing with me which has, on more than one occasion, led to an embarrassment of wrong signals. I danced a bit with some hot little thing and then her friend joined us. One of their boyfriends also joined us and bopped like a backing dancer from the 60s. All those funny, kitchy moves he probably does at home alone that only get an outing now because alcohol has lowered his inhibitions.
Between the two girls we were dancing with, I could see an older guy dancing by himself. I think I've seen him at work. He must be 10 years older than me and sports a rower's body. And I'm asking myself why I am even looking at him -- it must be his movements. He has style like no-one else here. The girls I am dancing with start copying their drunken friend's movements and the four of us now find ourselves in some elaborate dance routine. But I want to follow the lone dancer's lead. That's real dancing. I can't keep my eyes off him. When my choreographers have us bumping and grinding into each other, I realise that I am almost erect and pressing my cock against the other guy's bum for a few suggestive movements.
When he presses harder into me and wiggles his bum, I take my leave. I clamber through the crowd passed the rower who looks at me in anticipation. And I think: No mate, sorry, as much I'd love to, I'm not going to dance with you or any guy. I head for the bar to get something to cool me down. And start looking around for Tom.
In the murky depths of this sordid night, in one of the wee antechambers, I stumbled across Tom sat watching a slide show. It was incredibly erotic. One amazing photo after another melded into the next. It must have been set to random as some were returning. I'd never seen anything like this in public before. Not much in private either. I had seen a few porn mags but I had never used the internet for such sordid things, as do a few sad souls, one hears. Picture after picture after picture of women and girls in a range of degrading poses that far exceeded my imagination. And my needs. As the show wound on, I could see that it was not random because we started seeing penises large and huge in the woman's mouths and ... oh gosh, I can't even say the word.
And as interesting as the slides were, watching Tom's reaction to them was far more instructive. For one thing, he was so engrossed he wasn't aware of my presence. For another, there were only guys there, and not very many. None of them were making any great pretences about massaging their crotch which I found a little embarrassing. It was not uninteresting to observe that not one of the audience's bodies was totally disconnected from at least one of the other's - partly because they were so scrunched up on the black vinyl sofas. Partly because they were in some state of drunken erotic rapture in which the warmth of physical contact must have played some role.
I had been ruminating over the likely reactions of their girlfriends to this scene when slides started appearing with group scenes in which both her mouth and her thing were full of big boys. And then arses full of great big cocks. The longer this went on and the more physical the shots were, the louder the moans in the room became. The boys were undoubtedly reacting to the size of the cocks, and I didn't blame them. They were at the opposite end of the bell curve from Tom. Some of them were beautiful, beautiful in shape and proportions and the uses to which they were put. A group moan interrupted the low murmur when we finally saw a huge cock in the arse of a guy who was ramming a greedy slut of a woman. Oh my god, what is happening to me?
And inevitably, a member of the audience whipped out his worthy and very hard cock out and started stroking it in long slow sensuous strokes. Everyone noticed, some eyes stayed glued to him, others returned to the screen. It wasn't long before another guy whipped his out. And in a stage whisper, the guy pressed against him asked for permission to help him out. Twas granted and he wrapped his hand around it. Without reciprocating the gesture, the guy expressed his appreciation in a long breathy series of fuck, yes, tug, harder, faster, slower, stop, don't stop, more, fuck etc. It wasn't long before most of them had their dicks out and were looking from the slides to each other and back. The slides contained fewer and fewer woman, and more guys cocks in each other's hands, mouths and even arses.
The stage whisperer then asked if he could use his mouth instead of his hands and the non-reciprocater willingly acceded to the polite request, with you'd better fuckin hurry up if you want your mouth full of my cream. And that's when I heard Tom moan so loudly that I knew his loneliness was complete. Without even asking, he wrapped his fingers around his neighbour's cock and started stroking at first sensuously, but there was an unsubtle demand for more exertion.
I didn't like him being used like this and wondered if there was any way I could intervene. He was the only participant with his pants still intact. Every rigid pulsing cock I had seen this evening was obviously much bigger than Tom's, some as big as mine, so it was clear why his wasn't on show. It'd probably be invisible in this darkened room anyway. The only light was that reflecting from the slides and as the guy action were darkish studio shots, the chamber was really quite dark now.
Tom's neighbour put his hand behind Tom's head and was pushing it down towards his cock. I didn't want my best friend used this way. I quickly whipped my cock out, stepped into their space and hijacked his mouth. It went further into his mouth in that instant than it have ever been in any girl's mouth. It was the most beautiful feeling. I rested one hand at the back of his head and rocked gently in and out while he devoured me. His tongue was so long and powerful. My other hand tousled his hair, gently tugged at his earlobes, scraped his clean shaven chin - my heart broke. Tom is a cocksucker who's never had his cock sucked. If this means I have to reciprocate, against all my natural proclivities, I will -- if the little slug extends beyond my thick lips, that is. I'll roll it around my lips and extend my tongue into his crotch and nibble on his abundant bush of pubic hair. I'll rub my hands around his perfectly flat, smooth, hairless, milky white torso. And he will smile. And I will be happy if he's happy. I don't care -- if that's what it takes, that's what he's getting.
But not here. Not in public. Not with the indifferent porn models gazing down on us. The right thing to do was withdraw from his mouth but I was as hungry to cum in a hot willing mouth as this mouth was to receive. So I let go. I felt the jizz shooting up my thick, heavy shaft several times. It was the most wonderful orgasm I could ever remember. And as it subsided, I kept his head down so that he wouldn't see who the generous sperm donor was. After all, sperm donor anonymity is guaranteed, is it not? Without even putting my cock away, I turned and quickly disappeared from the room. Went straight to the garderobe, took my coat and scarf and taxied home. I lay awake for quite a while, playing with my cock.
Still with Tom's saliva on it letting it wax and wane as I thought of him. I bounced my emptied balls around and thought of his hot mouth and his warm thick blond hair, both of which I had caressed. My hot thick cum had caressed his throat. Christ, if I was going to turn gay, would it be for a guy with a micropenis? What am I talking about? Turn gay? Me and Tom? This is too hard. I had to sleep.
Sunday lunch was my turn this week. A tradition that had started in our student days. Even though a few people moved away to work and a few of the old gang are no longer single, we still have a nice little rota for Sunday lunches. I was still a bit wasted from last night and certainly perturbed by my unexpected sexual experience.
Tom arrived first to help as usual. God, I love this guy. No, not in that way. You know what I mean. He's my best friend. Instead of a roast and six veg, which I'd normally do at this time of year, I took the easy way out and decided to give the chicken a good wokking. Tom was unusually playful, doing rather lewd things with vegetables, or at least pretending that he was. The things he did with that zucchini reminded me of what he had done with my cock last night. This was not the Tom I knew. But his theatre was more reminiscent of the things I was thinking after I had gotten home. In fact, I was starting to feel a bit red of face and hard of cock. I hoped that the looks I was giving him weren't as weird as the ones he was giving me. The radio started bopping out some Billy Joel and he backed himself into me. Fuck, I hope he can't feel my hard on. Well, it's not that small, of course he can. I pushed him forward a little and held his waist. He wiggled his bum and I honestly regretted having guests now. I knew exactly where I wanted to be. I had never noticed how feminine his hips were. As if reading my mind he passed me the zuchinni and I poked his bum with it. That's when I heard the same lascivious moans he was making last night. It seems we are moving in the same direction.
The guests arrived. We lunched. Then we moved to the arm chairs and rugs in front of the open fire chatting where we drank port and scoffed various cheeses like the rich old people we weren't, to the accompaniment of a classical music station yuppifying our existence. He's so charming with people. He hangs on their every word. He caresses them with his reactions, his understanding, his smile, even his posture. Who could want more from a partner? And yet he'll never go hunting because his weaponry is not up to the job. He needs to be loved for who he is and all the plusses he does have. This includes his hot willing mouth that I'd like to fill with my cock again just as soon as our friends take their leave.
As they were leaving, he said goodbye to me too. I was livid. Bastard. Don't leave me like this. Not with all the washing up that's to be done. Not with all the catching up that's to be done. Bye bye Tom. And suddenly my parents' grand old apartment felt as empty as my heart. He said farewell and I won't see him now till tomorrow at work. Since we haven't been invited to any stag parties between now and then, what I am to do? I collected plates and glasses and cups and washed and dried and wiped and by jingoes, was I in a foul mood. How could he just walk out on me like that?
Killing time now till Mondayitis set it, I had just fully submersed myself in a piping hot bath when the door bell rang. Hoping against hope that it would be Him, I was nevertheless pissed off at his timing. I climbed out, wrapped a towel around and let him in. He was carrying a pizza, a six pack of beers and a couple of DVDs. In my confused state, I had completely forgotten our Sunday night tradition, or rather had erased it. Oh gosh, I don't know. I'm so confused.
He asked me which bath I was using. It being the master bedroom one, he asked if he could join me. An obvious corollary to our sauna experience, I tacitly noted. It was so magnanimous of my parents to beg me to look after their apartment during their posting to Australia. He stripped off and we both climbed in -- it was a large corner bath with bubble jets. His cock should have looked bigger under water, but magnifying the infinitesimal doesn't make much difference. He was chatting away about nothing in particular. I was eyeing him all over. This beautiful, beautiful friend of mine, has just become the object of my love. It's like I don't even know myself. And I certainly don't care.
He saw my hard on peeping out of the water and winking at him a few times. He eventually commented on the magnification properties of H2O. When I replied that it was quite big enough, thank you, he acknowledged the fact graciously. But then he surprised me with the news that what he was most pleased to have gleaned at the sauna, was the fact that there are lots of small dicks around. And that the shame he had felt up until then has somewhat lifted, and he's only now jealous of my endowment. I told him, what's mine is his. And he scoffed bitterly.
No no no, he insisted. You don't have to be that magnanimous. We got out of the bath and he told me we should hang out naked for a while. He wanted to accustom himself to my body and assuage his jealousy. If I hadn't had the hots for him, I'd have laughed this off, but instead I let it go. We stoked up the fire, turned up the music, nuked the pizza and lay on the rug in front of the fire and ate. He'd occasionally go to the fridge for another beer.
And now we embarked on a rare topic for us: girls. It was weird timing. Any time before this week I'd have had a reasonable idea how to respond, but now nothing was clear. He asked me why I haven't found someone to have a long relationship with. Last week's answer was that I was just playing the field until the right gal came along. This week's answer is, I have, but I haven't told him yet. Of course, he only heard last week's answer. I asked him the same question. And he just pointed at his little dick. I could see what an impediment that might be, and nodded and offered nothing more than a stupid sympathetic grin.
And now to bodies. When he asked if I liked big breasts, I had to admit to myself that I had never given it much thought, but that is not what I said. I said that I didn't care if they had boobs or not. He was a naughty boy -- he stroked his flat chest and tried to squeeze his nipples into something bitable. And then he tried to press his cleavage together, to no avail. But we had a great laugh, well more of a cautious laugh. He held them close to my face. Laughing wasn't at the top of my agenda at that moment, but it was all I could muster. He recoiled somewhat when I didn't take the bait. They're very sensitive, he said as he took two little clothes pegs out of his shoulder bag and clamped them to his sharp little points. He winced ever so slightly. But there was a pleasure in that pain that was completely foreign to me. My eyes widened to his great satisfaction.
And arses? Is there any shape or form that takes the architect's fancy? At that moment, I remembered standing in the queue with him last week as well as this afternoon's zucchini moment, and finding his arse annoyingly feminine. He stood up and turned his back to me: it could have been the statue of David (rear view). I didn't know if I was having a bad day or the best day of my life. My best friend was metamorphosing into the most beautiful, desirable, erotic creature I had ever had the pleasure of fantasizing over. He bent over and stretched his buttocks apart and flexed his shiny sphincter. While I was wondering how long it would be before I disappeared into his pulsing hole, he pulled a dildo out of his bag, licked it and sent it inside himself. No wincing this time, just a great sigh.
Embarrassed again, I could only comment on its size. He replied with frustrating ease, that he didn't want to use one bigger than my cock. My cock, should you be wondering, was hard, pointing straight up and starting to drip.
And now I had a question for him. I asked him if he had ever had a blow job. Even more outstanding than anything that had ever happened between us now played out before my eyes. He took a little leather band out of his bag, wrapped it around the top of his scrotum and tied it tight. Then he rolled himself up into a ball and took his whole cock in his mouth. Fuck, I had no idea that anyone could do that. What flexibility these short skinny guys have! He sucked till it was really hard then let me see it. It had grown a bit more respectable now that it was fully erect, but it's still mere child's play. He asked if he should continue, but I already had my answer in spades, as I half hoped I would be able to extract his pound of sperm myself. Half hoped? I don't think so.
Can you manage this?
No, I don't this so. He gestured for me to try. My flexibility didn't allow me by several centimetres. No matter how tight I pulled my cock up by its foreskin, it just wasn't going to happen. He could see that I was disappointed -- it did look like a lot of fun could be had sucking your own cock, and I was not only a little jealous, but amazed that penis size was not the decisive factor. He had me roll over and throw my legs in the air so I was upside down. He came behind me and supported me, even pushing gently to help the tip of my cock meet the tip of my tongue. And that is when I experienced the most wonderful feeling of my entire life. His tongue licked my well exposed arse. I almost screamed. His tongue licked up and down the whole crack and then dedicated itself to my hole. Its pointy tip darted back and forth then he tried to get inside me. He held my buttocks apart and forced himself inside. At the same time he was still coaxing my cock towards my mouth but I'd almost forgotten about that. His hands found my nipples and he pinched them so violently that I not only screamed, I creamed. All over my face. I started coughing, almost choking and demanded he let me go. I couldn't breath and had a frightening winded-like sensation. I thought I was going to choke to death on my own cum. Explain that to the family! Tom lay me out flat on the rug and the twinkly light from the fire and his eyes, its warmth and his, well, I was a gonner. He knelt over me and licked my cum off my face for what must have been a very long time. I smiled as I remembered the first time he tasted my cum. He licked around the rim of my lips with his tongue that had just been inside my arse. It was beautiful. He reached behind and felt my rock hard cock. He removed the dildo from his arse and slowly sat down on my cock. The place I most wanted to be in all my life. He didn't move. He just let the feeling of me inside him fill him up. When I started to move my hips up and down a little so as to keep the rhythm of the night alive, the dildo found my hole and he tried to push it in. His tongue had lubed my arse very well, and the implement had been in his pre-lubed arse too. I expected my arse would be less welcoming, but every organ of my body has happily betrayed me this evening. And in it went. I felt it whoosh inside as he leaned down to laver my nipples. Then bite them. I started fucking his arse wildly. He kept biting my nipples and I had to hold the dildo in myself. And then I started fucking myself with it. I love you, I screamed. I fucking love you.
Prove it by not cumming inside me. Please don't. I froze. My eyes opened wide in amazement. He doesn't want me to cum inside him. I didn't ask why, just tried my damnedest to accede to this perverse request. He took the pegs off his nipples and attached them to mine. That fucking stung. And stung and stung. But not as much as when he slapped my face. He wiped the shock off my face with our first ever kiss. I started sliding in and out of his arse and could feel the dildo pressed at one end into the rug, sliding in and out of me at the same time.
He was so totally in control. He rolled me over onto my stomach, then had me on all fours. He climbed under me and sucked on my cock, nibbling on it, tugging at my pubes with his teeth. And then crawling further along, started stretching my scrotum till it hurt. Just a bit, but nothing like I'd ever experienced before. I felt him fumbling in his shoulder bag again, and before I knew it, I was blindfolded. I could easily have removed the band from across my eyes, but what is love without trust? Did I say LOVE again? What's gotten in to me? Oh, I think I know. Fuck, it's his tongue again. God, I'd never have thought ...
That's when it hit me. His huge schlong was inside me. He's fucking-well fucking me. It was amazing. Hang on, he doesn't have a fucking huge schlong. Who's that? He takes my hand and guides it around his body. He's strapped a dildo on so that he can fuck me? Tom has been a busy little conniver if he's popped around for our Sunday beer and pizza and with all this paraphernalia. And it feels fantastic. He suddenly withdraws and it doesn't feel fantastic. He flipped me over, my legs in the air and he started nibbling on my perineum. Then sucking and biting. He threw my legs higher and over so that once again my cock was above my face. He said we're doing nothing more till you get this whole cock in your mouth. You'll break my back, I protested. And he slapped my face again. I don't know why I liked it so much. He gently pushed my cock down towards my face. I said it still needed a few centimetres. He joked that he did too.
Do this one thing and I'll marry you, he said.
Porn stories don't end in marriage, you fucker.
And neither will this one, if you can't be a little more flexible. With that, he drove his artificial cock deep into my arse, and as I screamed in pain, I once again flooded my mouth with my cum. It was so warm and totally unlike anything I imagined. And then I realised that the tip of my cock was actually just past my lips. How did you do that? I spluttered.
He removed my blindfold, the pegs on my nipples, the dildo from my arse, the leather band tied around his scrotum and his strap on cock. He lined them up like trophies.
Does this mean you'll marry me? I asked beaming with love and laying myself open to receive all of his.
Not at all. You haven't even considered my need to cum, you selfish shit. And this time when he slapped my face, there was anger within.
You've hardly given me a chance. You've been controlling me all night.
Oh much longer than that, you selfish arsehole.
Alright, so pass me some tweezers so that I can jerk you off.
That's unkind.
Well, what would you like me to do?
Have some imagination, for a start. You're supposed to be an architect, not a CAD program. He now challenged me: so just how would you like to make my juices flow? I had no idea what to say. Or do. He had been so masterful that by comparison I felt quite emasculated. My thick heavy cock was no match for his rich, fertile and challenging imagination. I might have a lot more down there than he has, but he was able to do far more with his wild and wonderful imagination than I was with my beloved fantastic cock. The old adage, you can do more with more, never meant more than it did now.
I asked him to suck himself again. That had been such a turn on. He sat tall, crossed legged and then bent down and used his long firm tongue to fish his cock out from its thick bushy hideout. The whole centimetre was in his mouth as he slurped noisily. It was a beautiful sight. I asked him if that tongue could reach his balls. It might if you command it.
Lick your balls, I barked
That's better, you wuss.
And rolled back onto his back and let his scrotum dangle below his cock. That was hardly a challenge then -- his scrotum was bigger than his cock. But while he was in that position, I pointed my foot towards his arse and sent my big toe in. His arse sucked it in, and cried out for more. The warm slime of his innards was soon cocooning my whole foot. And still his arse wanted more. I put my other foot up there and it disappeared into the slime almost as easily.
Be careful what you wish for, were Tom's last ominous words. Both of my feet were inside his arse and fairly soon my legs were, up to the knees. His hole opened even wider and I feared a reverse birth. His sphincter muscles had taken over completely. I was up to my balls in his arse and it was only that my cock had more than doubled in size, in fact had grown to the size of a baseball bat, but was harder, that it prevented me from disappearing altogether. Not that I'd've minded, mind you. There was nothing I needed more than to be this much a part of him.
He had been sucking on his so-called cock during all this and I heard him cough and splutter as he filled his mouth with his sweet cum. I also felt how his body rapidly expelled me. The smell was disgusting. He wrapped my feet in some hand towels and sent me to the bath room to wash.
He threw another log on the fire and I returned after a few minutes. Tommy, do you have any idea how much I love you?
Oh yes, he said. Very annoyingly. I've known for the longest time. And now, if you don't mind. I'd like another dose of your semen. What you poured down my throat at the stag party was the greatest gift of my life. It's not as sweet as mine, but that's probably because your body has been riddled with demons for too long. Tonight we have exorcised them and your sperm will become the cream I want on my Christmas cake.
The words may sound cold on the page but his eyes danced. The twitching of his lips told me that he was enjoying this game -- he just wanted to prolong it because he knew he was going to win. And his win would be my win. So in love I had never imagined being.
===========================
Other stories of mine published on Nifty: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/interracial/starting-with-phone-sex http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/diving-in http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/clouding-certainties http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/college/robin-john-and-marion http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/im-not-gay-but
My gay sites: http://gymnop.com/ http://bit.ly/GoogleGym