Places

Published on Nov 9, 2003

Gay

Places: Rome

Places: Rome
By John Yager

Some time ago I posted a series of four very short pieces under the collective title Seasons.

Many readers have since written to ask if I would do further such little vignettes. What follows is one such piece, part of a series titled Places, based on my own memories of some of my favorite cities and locations around the world.

Andrew, thank you again for so much help, for good advice, for proofing and editing and, most of all, for making me look so much better than I am.

This work is copyrighted © by the author, 2003 and may not be reproduced in any form without specific written permission from the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

jvoyager@hotmail.com

"How do you want it?" Danny growled as he shoved his hot cock into my ready ass.

"Hard and long," I moaned, "like always."

"You got it, buddy," he whispered, a slight catch in his voice.

It was a hot night and the old albergo on the Via Vittorio Amedeo II hadn't heard of air conditioning. A lazy fan made slow, squeaky revolutions high up against the ceiling, doing nothing for us, only bothering one big black buzzing fly.

The squeak of the fan mimicked the squeak of the bed, or maybe it was the other way around. The bed, like the room itself, was small and rumpled. We'd not been out of either for several hours.

Danny and I had met on a slow train from Florence two days before and had taken to one another immediately. "Love at first sight?" Not likely, but certainly lust; just two more college guys doing the summer circuit.

His fat cock felt hot in my dilated ass but little chills were running up my spine; bone chilling, despite the humidity and heat.

I'd fucked him two hours earlier and couldn't decide whether I liked it better on the bottom or on the top - whether I liked him better in me or me in him.

He had a hard, bulky football body, compared to my own slimmer swimmer's build, but we were a good match, at least in bed.

When it came to conversation we weren't so good together.

"Yeah," I moaned as he shifted angles just a bit and the fat head of his dick dug into my prostate. "Oh, yeah," I moaned again.

"Like that?"

"Yeah, right there."

He backed off and pounded in again, bruising me, sending little sparks all the way to my brain.

"Fucking yeah!"

We used no condoms. Nobody did in those days, and the feeling of his massive dick against the tender tissues of my bowels was like wet velvet sliding over silk.

We'd not showered or shaved all day and our bodies stunk. The heady odor of male bodies filled the little room and tormented my brain.

I lifted my legs and locked them around his meaty butt, pulling him deeper into me, liking the feel of my hairy legs grating over his equally hairy butt. Sensation on sensation, skin on skin, bodies joined, building toward a climax neither of us wanted yet but were powerless to postpone.

"Oh shit," Danny moaned and I felt him swell.

"Yeah, yeah," I whimpered as he exploded, deep in me, heat spreading through me, his thick, white spunk invading my ass.

My own stuff shot out of me and coated both our chests.

Danny collapsed against me, his muscular body pressed against mine, all his considerable weight on me. My legs slipped from around him and we lay panting, smiling, happy, tired.

He fell asleep with his head pressed into my shoulder as his softening cock contracted and slipped out of my gaping ass.

So fucking hot!

The end.

Next: Chapter 8: Vail High Turk


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