Snowstorm

By Alvaro Lopez

Published on Sep 8, 2009

Gay

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are purely coincidental. This story involves descriptions of unsafe sexual acts between men for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not intended to condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material is otherwise illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains copyright; do not duplicate this story without express written consent by the author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed at lopezbos@yahoo.com]

Snowstorm -- Part 1

My little sliver of office window was jet black, reflecting back my office. In winter, this meant little; it could be midnight or it could be four-o-clock. I knew it was snowing out, I could tell by the occasional flicker of white against the glass. I checked the time; it was late. The office was quiet except for the cleaning crew bustling around from office to office. I got up to stretch and Charlie rapped on my door gently.

"Still working?"

I nodded as he came around the desk to get my garbage can. Over the past few months this project had kept me in the office late enough time to get to know the `regulars' on the crew. "How's the family?" I asked.

"All good, all good. Big storm's brewing out there Mr. Lewis, might want to get out of here soon."

I cupped my hands over the window to look out. The parking lot was already white.

"What about you guys?" I asked.

"We're finishing up in a few, we'll be out of here before it gets much worse. Radio says it's going to be a bad one."

"So I heard. I'm trying to get everything done now so I don't have to deal with this in the morning. Maybe stay home and relax."

Charlie finished relining the can and nodded. "You drive safe now."

"You too, Charlie, and keep warm."

I went back to work, pushing for that elusive finish line. I heard a vacuum cleaner in the distance and hoped that Charlie and his crew would get out soon. I had a nice big SUV in the lot, so I wasn't too worried about snow or storms. The hypnotic undulation of the vacuum grew louder. In a few minutes it'd be in my area of the building. I welcomed the noise, I concentrate better with it, so I went back to work. A while later the kid that did the vacuuming came by and waved. He wasn't part of Charlie's regular crew, and I'd only seen him a couple of times, probably because his job was the last one of the night. I guessed he was Latin, in his twenties, with a shock of spikey black hair and a handsome if not ordinary face. When he smiled he looked pretty good. I thought of him as `the kid' because he wore clothes that were obviously too big for him. His pants were cinched up at the waist and cuffed at the ankle, and when the cuffs of his shirt came loose, they hung down past his hands. I'd never really spoken to him, since vacuuming didn't really allow for much conversation. He passed out of sight, and the noise ebbed.

When I looked up again, another hour had passed. The noise was gone, and I realized I'd been heads-down for too long. I took another look outside, and it was indeed getting nasty, so I packed up my stuff, grabbed my coat and headed out. The building was empty, or so I thought until I got to the lobby. The vacuum cleaner kid was there, talking on his cell. He spoke in rapid-fire Portuguese, and from what I could understand, he wasn't too happy about the other side of the conversation. Obviously frustrated, he flipped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket. He noticed me as he turned around.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't know there was anyone left in the building!"

"I think I'm the last one out" I said, slipping my coat on. The kid was wearing a bulky overcoat that was also too big for him. "Is everything OK?" I asked.

"Yes, no problem." He said, with a slight accent. His face belied what he said. I looked out the big front windows and saw the snow coming fast and furious. I slipped on my gloves.

"Are you on Charlie's crew? Did they leave you behind?" I asked.

"No, I work for different company, they pick me up separate." He looked outside and frowned.

"Um, do you have a ride tonight?"

"They can't pick me up, so I take the bus" he said, a little growl in his voice. That explained the heated exchange on the phone.

"Let me give you a ride" I said, making it as much a statement as I could. "The bus stop is a good mile down the road, and I'm not sure the busses are going to be running tonight."

"No, no sir, I couldn't ask that." He buttoned his jacket as he spoke. I noticed he didn't have gloves or a hat.

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Look, you're not dressed for a long walk in the snow. How far do you live?"

"Down route 28, behind the grocery store, but I can't ask you to drive me home. I take the bus."

"Nonsense, you're practically on my way home. C'mon." I lied, but I wasn't going to leave the kid to trudge through a blizzard.

He half shook his head, then looked back outside. "OK, thank you sir. You live close too?"

"No, I live about 30 miles north, that's why I drive a big car, for weather like this." I pointed to the hulking chunk of metal in the lot under the lone streetlamp. It was covered in snow, and from the looks of it, there was a good six or eight inches already on the ground and no sign of the plows.

"I'm Ben Lewis" I said, extending my hand.

"Paulo Escobar. Thank you Mr. Lewis."

"Ben, please."

He grabbed his backpack and hoisted it to his shoulder, the held the door open for me. The bitter wind took my breath away. It was a hideous night. We trudged out to the car and I jumped in to start it. Paulo went around, and cleared the windshield with his arm. I grabbed my scraper and joined him. In a minute or two we had the car cleaned off and we climbed inside.

"Damn it's cold" I said, shaking off the snow from my coat. Paulo was shivering so I turned up the heat as high as it would go, but it was still not warm. I drove out of the lot slowly, trying to remember where the little islands were, since it looked like a huge field of white. The road was better, but not plowed recently and the truck felt like it was lumbering through the packed snow. This really was a doozie of a storm.

I drove slowly, making my way through mostly deserted streets. I found the turnoff to 28 and headed down, not sure how far the grocery store was. After a couple of blocks, Paulo pointed. "There, that road, left."

I turned and he piloted me down a few other short turns until we came to a small apartment complex. "Right here" he said, gathering his backpack. "Thank you so much Mr. Lewis."

"No problem, kid. You stay warm now." He jumped out and headed to the door, turning to wave. I started backing out.

"Mr. Lewis!" he shouted, waving his arms. "Mr. Lewis, your tire!" he shouted pointing at my rear tire.

I got out and saw my left rear tire almost completely flat. That explained why she was handling so poorly. "Dammit!"

"I'm so sorry Mr. Lewis" said Paulo.

"Sorry for what? Hell, you just saved me from breaking down on the highway. I'll give the auto club a call."

"You come in, Mr. Lewis." Paulo tugged at my sleeve. The wind was picking up again, sending snow swirling around. I nodded to him, then pointed to an empty space.

"Can I put it there?" Paulo nodded and I parked, then followed him in. It was a nice building, the smell of home cooking wafting through the halls. I stomped off the snow and followed him down the corridor to his apartment. It was a ground-floor affair, simple and functional. Kitchen and living area on one side, and bedroom and bathroom on the other. It was just a bit bigger than my dorm in college.

Paulo hit the lights and shrugged off his coat. I flipped open my cell and dug for the auto club card in my wallet. He took my coat and hung it up, then self-consciously went around picking up clothes that were scattered on the floor. The auto club operator informed me that I was looking at two hours or more. She was careful to ask me if I was in a safe place and all that. I checked my watch, and it was past ten. Paulo heard me telling her that I couldn't impose for two hours, and beaming at hearing me say that I was at a `colleague's house.' He gestured that it was OK, and the woman insisted that two hours would be the limit, it could be anytime before that depending on the location of a truck.

I pondered the idea of changing the tire myself, but with the cold and snow, I opted to wait. I hung up and checked the time again. She'd said they would call before coming over. I decided to give them twenty minutes, then I'd go wait in the car and let the kid relax.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Paulo offered.

"Not unless you're having something" I answered. He smiled and nodded.

"Is tea OK? I want to get warm."

"That sounds great thanks." Actually, I'd prefer something stronger, but I doubted the kid had brandy lying around. He set on the task of nuking two mugs and motioned me to sit. I hopped up on a stool at the kitchen counter (no table). It was cluttered with unopened mail and magazines, mostly workout and fitness mags that promised flat abs in six weeks.

"This is a nice place you have" I said, trying not to feel like a white elephant.

"It small, but good. My uncle owns the building, so the rent is cheap. He runs the cleaning company too."

I nodded. Nice deal. Pay the kid then take it back, I thought.

Paulo went on: "It's a quiet building, so I like it."

I noticed the weight set in the corner of the living room. It was neatly packed away; the weights stacked and everything in it's place. "You lift?" I asked casually.

"Lift?" Paulo looked a little confused, then followed my gaze to the weights. "Oh, that is my training equipment. I am bodybuilder."

"Get out" I said, sincerely surprised. Paulo laughed.

"Yes. Came in third this past weekend. Big competition, Tri-State."

"Seriously?" I was still incredulous. He shuffled through the magazines on the counter and pulled out one. I saw that it wasn't a magazine, but a program for the Tri-State Body Championship. He thumbed through the pages, then plopped it open in front of me.

"That's me, number 38." He pointed to a sculpted, lean body topped with his head. I looked from the picture to him, and back. If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn the picture was messed with.

"That's amazing" I said, looking at the tight muscled guy in a white bikini on the page. The smile was his for sure. Paulo went off to the bedroom and came back with a trophy.

"Third, but next year I will definitely do better" he said proudly. I looked at the picture again, trying to imagine what body could have taken first if this kid took third. Paulo trotted back to the bedroom to put the trophy back.

"You should keep that out here" I said, "man, if I'd won one of those I'd have it in the front window!"

Paulo laughed as the microwave beeped. "My uncle says not to be proud, not to show off, it's rude. And it's only third place, maybe when it is first, it will be in the window, eh?" He gave a little wink as he plopped the teabags into the cups.

"I'd have never guessed you were a bodybuilder, I mean usually those guys are so, I don't know..."

"Big?" he said, his eyebrow arching up. "No I'm not in that weight class. They always win the show, the big guys, but I don't want to get that big, it's hard enough to buy clothes now." He waved his sleeves to emphasize his point. He flexed his arm and the oversized sleeve inflated like a balloon. "Can you imagine if I got bigger? No thanks. The training is hard enough as it is." He laughed again. "Do you, lift?" He said it like he was trying a new word out.

"No, not like that. I mean I work out at the gym and all, but it's just to keep in shape."

Paulo nodded. "It's a lot of work. The money's not too bad, $500 for third place. But still, I give up a lot."

"I hope I'm not keeping you from your workout" I said, partly hoping.

"Oh no, no. I'm taking a week off. After competition, I really need a break, so a few days is good to rest, you know?" I nodded. His smiled came back, giving him an impish look, particularly with his sleeves hanging down past his waist. His cell buzzed and he answered, again in Portuguese. It was a brief conversation, and he went to the bedroom to put the phone away.

"My uncle" he said by way of explanation, "he wanted to be sure I got home OK." Paulo stood at the counter and sipped his tea. "Can I get you sugar? Milk?" he said. I shook my head, taking a cautious sip. When he put the cup down, his cuff slid again, and instead of rolling it back up, he unbuttoned the bulky shirt and took it off, revealing a well-filled undershirt stretched across a flat, perfect chest. Without the bulky, ill-fitting shirt, he took on a whole different appearance.

Although his pants were cinched up at the waist, from there up there was no question this was the guy in the picture. He wasn't `big' but perfectly proportioned without the freakish muscle-bound look so many bodybuilders had. "Wow" I said out loud, without even realizing it had slipped out.

Paulo smiled broadly, and stepped over to where I was sitting. He flexed his right arm, as I watched with fascination. It wasn't the little egg-shaped bicep, this was a broad, big bicep that rose up. Without realizing it, I reached out to touch it. Paulo smiled, flexing it again, pumping it for me. The muscle felt hot under the skin, and `skin' was the perfect definition for it; it was sheathed in skin, but not bound by it. I'd seen a lot of muscle guys, but I'd never touched one before.

"Amazing" is all I could say.

Paulo laughed, "Thank you, but not amazing enough to make up for this." He pulled up his undershirt to expose a flat, rippled stomach.

"Make up for it?" I asked, looking at a perfect set of abs.

"This" he said, pointing and flexing his torso. As he twisted, the muscles in his abdomen came alive and gathered themselves into a hard set of blocks. He pointed to the obliques, where those abs slid under, like a diorama of the continents in motion. Innocently and without thinking, I ran my hand over that place. He twisted some more, the hard flesh forming and reforming under my fingertips. "Not enough definition" he said.

"You got robbed" I said, barely looking up. My brain slowly registered that I had my hand on this guy's midsection and was caressing it. His right hand, formerly flexed for my entertainment, was resting on my shoulder gently. I looked up.

Paulo was half smiling, his brown eyes looking straight into mine. I wondered briefly what my face was saying to him. As he moved towards me, my hand slid to the small of his back. It was such a natural movement that I didn't have time to think, just react. I felt his breath on my lips mine as the gap closed. The kiss was tentative, asking permission. It was the kind of kiss that, given the opportunity, would mature and bloom into a passionate embrace. But it wasn't given the chance.

His cell phone buzzed loudly from the dresser in the other room. Paulo stopped, and reflexively I backed up, dropping my hand from his warm body. He turned quickly and stepped into the other room. Likewise, I turned towards the counter, noticing a large mirror on the wall. I glanced that way and saw that I could see him in the bedroom leaning into the phone, talking rapidly. His facial expressions gave me the gist of the conversation where my fractured Portuguese didn't. He was telling someone no' and later' in pretty passionate terms. The conversation ended abruptly on the other end apparently, as Paulo checked the phone a couple of times to see if he'd been disconnected. I guess he wasn't used to being hung up on.

"I really should be going" I said by way of breaking the mood, "I'm keeping you from something, and I really..."

Paulo raised his hand and shook his head, a little melancholy look crossing his handsome face. "My uncle is over protective, and he's having some trouble accepting that I want to take a few days off my routine. I have been training for months, every day, every night. Now I want a few days to just eat what I want, sleep when I want, and relax with my feet up for a little while." Again he shook his head.

"Sounds like your uncle really looks after you" I said, not really sure why I said it, but it seemed like the thing to say.

"Sometimes too much" replied Paulo. He reached across me for his tea and I felt the heat of his body. I realized that it was pretty warm in the apartment, and I was still bound up in my office attire. I took a sip of the tea, awful as it was, and loosened my tie and shirt. Paulo hopped up on the stool next to me and stared at the counter for a moment before speaking, "I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr. Lewis."

I practically choked on the tea. "Offended me? How?"

He looked up at me and smiled a little, "Being so forward and all."

I put my hand on his shoulder, my loins tingling at the feel of the rock-in-velvet feel of his muscles. "I'm the one who's sorry, Paulo. I've disrupted your plans to relax." He looked me in the eye, then leaned towards me. My hands instinctively moved to his body, guiding him in for another try. In my pants, my cock, which had decidedly chilled with the damned uncle's phone call, stirred back to life. After that tentative kiss, I was beginning to think that maybe I'd be having some hot Brazilian poon-tang for a nightcap. Unlike the first kiss, now that I knew there was interest there I got a bit more aggressive, pulling Paulo towards me.

This time, the kiss did mature. From a gentle brushing of lips to a full-on kiss, then after a moment to hands grabbing bodies and the space between us squeezed away. There is a weird combination of gentle force that goes with making out with a man. There is the passion, and the power behind it. Paulo's compact body was burning hot under my hands. I splayed my palms to feel more of it, the hard back, knotting with the effort of his arms around me, pulling me. I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead as my senses kicked into overdrive tasting him, kissing his neck, cheeks, and those perfect lips. I had to have this kid.

I pulled back to undo my tie, and Paulo stepped back and pulled the t-shirt over his head. My rigid cock jumped at the sight of his naked torso, and time slowed for me. His washboard abs twisted as he inched the shirt over his head, exposing his chest. His square slabs of pecs were capped with dark, half-dollar sized nipples, standing at perfect attention. He was totally smooth, even his armpits, and I noticed that even his arm hair was gone. I practically ripped my shirt off. I had to feel that body against mine. Paulo, still standing a step back, ran his hands over my chest. I wasn't about to flex, and I suspected that what he was after was the hair coating it from my pecs to the top of my abs. He traced his fingertips through the hair, following it down to the trail through my abs and into my beltline. I reached up and massaged his pecs, letting my fingers come to rest at his nipples, softly squeezing and kneading them. He leaned close and took my left nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the feeling. He flicked his tongue over the tip as his lips gently encircled it and sucked it up. His hands, meanwhile, roamed over my abs and back.

I slid off the stool and pressed close, letting my hands drift to his back. The height difference was now to my advantage, since his head was at a comfortable angle to keep working my sensitive nubs. I pulled his waist towards me, thrusting out at the same time until I felt his chest against my skin. He moaned and pushed into me, releasing my tit to press his body full on mine. I pulled him closer and when he looked up at me, I planted my lips on his and drove my tongue into his eager mouth. Despite his solid mass, he squirmed against me almost playfully. He wrapped his arms around me and nearly pulled me off my feet. The kid didn't know his own strength.

Paulo broke the kiss and took my hand. "Come" he said, flipping off the lights as he led me to the bedroom. A single light from his closet lit the little room enough to locate furniture and obstacles. He was still leading me, but I reached up and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to me, his back to my chest. My arms encircled him, rubbing his chest and abs, and he threw his head back on to my shoulder moaning. I kissed his neck, shoulders, ears, and with a little stretching, got to his mouth as my hands closed on his pecs. He held my arms tight, leaning into me and arching his back.

I ground my raging, but confined cock into his rock hard ass, and he arched his back more. Damn this kid wanted it bad. I rubbed up and down that hard ass while pulling his body into mine, grinding my torso into those magnificent lats. My right hand drifted south. I had to know what this kid was packing. Paulo let go of my arms and reached around for my ass, pulling me tighter to him. I got to his waist, but his pants were bunched up and cinched tight, so I felt through the fabric for his meat. It wasn't hard to find. He had a respectable hard on, as rock hard as the rest of him. I rubbed it through the pants, feeling it's hard length, it's heat. Paulo bucked his hips against my groping, pulling me into him by my own hips. I happily ground them into his hard ass. I went back to massaging his body, letting my hands come down to his beltline to try and figure out how to undo those damned baggy pants.

He read my thoughts and spun around to face me, grabbing my own pants and undoing the belt as my fingers struggled with his. He had no trouble with my pants, thanks to my very fussy tailor that insisted the waist be just right. One clasp and my pants fell to the floor quickly, weighted as they were with my keys, wallet, and cell phone. I was glad I'd picked boxer briefs today, since they made me look pretty hot. Paulo kissed me furiously as he explored my ass and package with his hands. My fumbling with his pants was getting me nowhere, so he stepped back and undid them himself. They slid lethargically down a little then stopped; trapped by the mounds of solid muscle the rest of us call thighs. He reached down and pushed, stepping out of his pants.

I took the opportunity to shed my loafers and kick off my own pants. I looked down at those perfect abs terminating in a weathered elastic of thin cotton boxers. His cock, still caged by material, bulged out obscenely. I reached over and stroked it as Paulo did the same to me. In a quick motion, both undergarments hit the floor, and we stepped into each other fully naked (socks don't count in the winter). My cock, finally free, sprang up to be trapped between us in the up position. With the height difference between us, my leaking cockhead was just over his navel, right in the middle of that magnificent eight-pack of muscle. His cock found it's place at the top of my legs, just under my nuts. In the second before we glued our bodies together, I got a look at his cock. Uncut like me, it was a bit larger at the head than the base, long without being grotesque and as thick as it needed to be to look perfectly proportioned. It stood out perpendicular to his body and pulsed slightly, bobbing a bit as he moved. And like mine, a shiny wetness fringed the puckered foreskin at the head.

Now Paulo used those big muscles. He held me so tightly, I would have had trouble taking a deep breath. Our bodies were now in contact head to toe, fitted together almost perfectly. My hands on his ass, his around my back, we kissed so hard it hurt. Every grind and movement I felt through my entrapped cock. His cock was mashing my balls up to the base of mine, adding to the unbelievable heat between us. I grunted as he lifted me to my toes, raising my chest up to his mouth. He ran his tongue over my chest, inhaling deeply. His lips found purchase on my nipples. I moaned, partly from the feeling of his hot mouth on me and partly from feeling like I was being attacked by a boa constrictor. I arched my back to take a breath, and Paulo eased up enough to let take a breath, but not regain my footing. With any other guy, I'd feel a little queasy that we'd go toppling over, but there was no question Paulo could handle this acrobatic maneuver.

Paulo backed a few steps, carrying me with him and lowered me back down so I could stand normally. He continued his slide down my body until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. I opened my legs to give him room. His mouth marched down my chest and abs as he settled, finally reaching my cock.

He didn't engage in any preface, no kissing, no licking, nothing. He took my cock into his mouth, taking about four inches of my seven inch member. He sucked like a calf, pulling and kneading with his tongue, slurping up all the precum I'd built up in the last few minutes. He left my foreskin in place, working his tongue into the tip. Takes one to know one, I always say. Nobody sucks uncut cock like an uncut guy.

Paulo proceeded to demonstrate his expertise in the field. He withdrew everything but the head of my cock from his mouth. He tongued it a little more, then gently, so deliciously gently, he pushed the skin on the shaft back to reveal the cockhead resting on his tongue. My knees went a little weak. The super-sensitive head finally out, and being bathed feather-gently by his mouth. I let out a little gasp of pleasure. His suction gently increased, and he bobbed slowly up and down the shaft, taking more each time. I could feel the back of his throat now with each intake.

I fought the urge to grab his head and bury my cock all the way in. This kid knew what he was doing, so I'd let him continue to impress me with his skill; no need to encourage or guide him; this kid had done this before. Each time I went into him, he teased me with the back of his tonsils, just where his throat narrowed, promising a full circle massage. I lingered there, but he pulled off, careful to extend the foreskin as my cockhead left his mouth, preserving the sensitivity.

He turned quickly, extending himself on the bed upside down with his head in my crotch. My cock hung over his youthful face, slick with his spit and my lube. He tilted back, and I needed no other invitation to spread my legs enough to drop my cock back into his hot mouth. Again, he retracted the foreskin as the head passed into his lips, tilting back even more. I pushed in, feeling no resistance as I watched the top two thirds of my cock slide into him. I put my hands gently on his neck when my cock met the back of his throat and pushed gently. I felt his neck engorge a little as I passed deep into his throat, stopping only when my root was pressed against his teeth. I saw his body ripple with contractions as he fought the gag bravely, but I held fast. It was too pleasurable to feel that throat spasming around me.

Reluctantly I pulled back, almost all the way out. Paulo sucked in air through his nose loudly, and his chest heaved a few times as I pumped slowly. I moved one hand down his chest, tweaking that fat nipple and slide back into him to the hilt. He arched back as I pushed, impaling himself on my cock, swallowing and wiggling his throat to take it all. I felt the electric tingle in my balls and knew that I couldn't hold off much longer. I pulled back to let him breathe, and after a few snorts of air, he pushed his body up and took me again. I leaded over him, slightly off balance, my hands on his pecs taking a lot of my weight. My hips pumped of their own accord, massaging the crown of my cock on the back of his throat, the fat ring of foreskin heightening my sensations.

Paulo sensed my orgasm before I did, suddenly reaching up and grabbing my ass, pulling me into his mouth deeper than I thought possible. I felt my balls shiver, and as he swallowed hard, my cock surged. My own throat released a roar like sound as every muscle in my body suddenly contracted to push my boys out. Paulo continued his swallowing, letting his tongue squeeze my entire shaft as I shot. At my age, I'm lucky to get three or four volleys, but I lost count after six. It felt like my balls were being siphoned out of my cock. My back arched and my knees felt loose. I nearly fell over, catching myself on the bed with my arms. Paulo's body squirmed under me, and I withdrew as much as I could against his iron grip.

My cockhead now nestled just inside his mouth, Paulo gently ran his tongue over it, sucking the last drops of cum out of me. My cock felt electric, over-stimulated. He released it with a loud slurp and I slumped onto his body, his rigid cock at my neck. I wanted to return the favor, but my whole body was shaking and I needed a minute to gather myself before giving him what he'd just provided. After a few deep breaths, I started to slide down to get a better angle on his cock.

Up close, it was impressive. The head was thicker than the base, accentuated by his dark foreskin that just barely covered now. I reached for the base to swing it towards me, and Paulo jumped.

"No, please" he said, "not yet" he added. He turned himself around so we were face to face. "Not yet" he repeated.

"But I want to make you feel good too" I said, although I wasn't too disappointed right now. Despite his amazing body and phenomenal blowjob, I wanted a few minutes to get re-heated so I could really go at him. And I had other ideas of how I'd like to go at him that involved a lot more than just a reciprocal suck. Still, I felt a bit badly that I'd gotten mine. "Let me take care of you" I said.

Paulo leaned close and kissed me. "Later" he said, breaking the kiss.

"Thank you" I whispered, kissing him again and drawing his body to mine. He slid his arm under me and snuggled into my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, caressing his back as far as my pinned arm could reach. My free arm wandered down to his hard ass. We kissed like that for a few minutes, and I felt my lust returning again. As my cock gradually stiffened between us, Paulo too got more heated. The kissing became more aggressive, the hugs tighter. I pushed against him, reveling in the raw strength between us. I didn't need to hold back; he could take my full force of passion.

Paulo moved his lips to my chest, raking his tongue over my nipples making my cock ache. He adjusted his position, moving across my body with his talented mouth. When the top of his head was out of range for me to kiss, I threw my head back and moaned at his renewed attention. I arched my back to press more of me against him. He'd slide down my body, licking and kissing my torso. I was once again hard and leaking, rubbing my hips into his abdomen, feeling the heat of his body between my legs. He was bucking against me as well, and sweat dripped off both of us, making the contact hotter and slicker. I wanted to grab his cock, stroke him off at least to get him settled enough so I could take his sweet ass, reaching down along his body. I drew my legs up for balance as I did this, bringing my cock into full contact with him. I sighed, unable to reach his cock, and getting lost in the sensations of his mouth and wet body on mine.

I caressed his back and shoulders, enjoying the play of his muscles as he moved. His big shoulders bunched up, and his arms hooked under my legs and lifted up, curling me up on the bed. I moaned, expecting him to move his magical tongue to my cock again. Suddenly, I felt something unexpected: His hot and very hard cock in the crack of my ass.

"Paulo" I gasped, "No, I don't do that."

He was looking down, inches from my straining cock. I felt him pull back, and I thought my message was clear. A split second later, instead of the shaft I felt the blunt head of his cock between my cheeks. I instinctively clenched my ass. "No" I repeated, a little more forcefully. I tried lowering my legs and discovered that pushing against his arms was like pushing against concrete. I felt his cock withdraw again, and heaved a sigh of relief. He moved his hands up my legs until they were just above my ankles, then finally he raised his head to look at me.

"Yes" he said, and I felt the hard tip of his shaft pressing between my cheeks. He was just north of my opening and pushing hard, simultaneously spreading my legs wider and completely immobilizing me. I jerked away, and in so doing changed the position of my hole exactly wrong. The pressure that had been crushing my perineum was now focused on my sphincter, which was no match for the need in this muscle man.

I felt a searing flash of white-hot pain as his cockhead, lubricated by his foreskin, surged out of the protective flesh and into my virginal ass. It felt like a hot poker had been shoved inside me, and I screamed in pain. My ass involuntarily contracted against the intruder, increasing the sensation of sitting on a blowtorch. I'd fucked so many guys, and never imagined it could be this unbelievably painful for them. Sure, there was that momentary grimace of pain when I entered, but it was fleeting.

Paulo held the position of his cock, moving with me as I squirmed to try and get away from him. "Paulo, please, no! It hurts! Stop!" But he only looked at my eyes sadly.

"I know, relax, it will pass, I promise. Push now" he ordered.

Absurdly, I thought that maybe he was stuck, since my ass had never been penetrated, it was too tight for him. I pushed, hard, trying to expel him. At the same time, Paulo leaned forward and sank the rest of his rock-hard member into me. I gasped and cried out. His cock, thinner at the base than the head, felt like it was being sucked into my body. In trying to push him out, the muscles in my ass had opened, and the initial blinding pain was gone, replaced with a soreness and burning around the entry. Inside, however, was another story.

His fat cockhead was buried against my prostate. I felt at once totally full and unbelievably aroused. He held perfectly still as my ass twitched and spasmed. I began to regain control of my muscles and squirmed less. For the first time, I understood what my bottoms craved. I'd only tried this once, when I was in college and drunk off my proverbial ass, and it hadn't gotten anywhere because my buddy was also quite drunk and couldn't get hard enough. I'd never given it another try, knowing my ass was too tight, but more importantly, preferring to be in control of things.

I unclenched my eyes. Paulo was staring at me, looking sad. "Are you OK now?" he asked, apparently concerned. I was conflicted now. Ten seconds ago I was begging him to stop, but now I wasn't so sure. I nodded, and he relaxed his face, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth. His cock wasn't going in and out, just rocking with him, and the head alternately pressed and rubbed against my prostate sending waves of intense pleasure up my spine. My cock, which had deflated, sprang back to life. I relaxed my legs and my back, and the sore ache subsided more. I still felt a burning sensation, but it was rapidly becoming secondary to the feeling of a rock hard prostate massage.

Paulo moaned and added a little sway to his rocking. His dick stirred me like a cocktail, slow circles inside me. I moaned with him, closing my eyes to enjoy the ride. Now he added a little in and out. The first time he pulled back, I gasped, the burning in my ring flaring for a moment as his shaft moved out of me. I felt the thicker end of his cock tugging at my inner muscle, almost tickling me. He reversed direction and as my hole eased, my insides filled. I could get used to this.

My cock was now fully erect and spewing precum onto my belly. Paulo was in a rhythmic trance, slowly pulling out, then pushing back in, swaying and rocking as he did. I got his rhythm and began to match his moves. Each pull back made me groan as the thick head dilated my entrance from within before sliding back in where it belonged. Paulo picked up the pace, his thighs slapping my ass and the bed bouncing with his exertions. My insides felt like I was being churned to butter. He was still holding my legs, moving them into different angles. He dropped my left leg and leaned into me, once again giving me that wonderful feeling of fullness.

"Turn over" he said, breathing heavily. I wasn't sure how he expected me to accomplish this impaled as I was on his cock, and he didn't wait for me to comply. He grabbed my hips and began to rotate me. The new sensation was incredible. My entrance, still burning and a bit sore, now actually tightened around him. He gasped a little and sent a gob of spit down on his cock, still turning me. He moved his legs, and for a moment I was on my side. He pushed in and out, and his cock twisted and snapped in my chute, sending waves of pain and pleasure through my whole body.

He continued to turn me, one hand on my leg until it was up and over his body, the other on my hip, pulling me in the other direction. I groaned and moaned as he gently pushed himself in and out of me, his cock twisting and adjusting with every move. I was nearly face down now, and he used both his hands to raise me up to my knees, pushing deeper in as he did so. I cried out again as his cock hit new places in me and my dripping cock jumped under me. He adjusted my knees, lowering me to the place he wanted, then his firm hand guided my shoulders down to the bed so that I was ass up and well plugged.

He rotated my hips as he resumed his slow pumping, finding that place inside that made me gasp and push back hard. When he was satisfied that he had the angles right, he started pounding my ass in earnest. Holding my hips, he pumped faster and faster, elongating his strokes until he was nearly completely out at each pull. My ass was on fire, but my insides craved more. I heard myself whimpering as his powerful thrusts rattled my whole body.

His hands tightened on my hips, and if it were possible, he sped up his thrusting, now pushing against me so hard his balls slapped mine. He was gasping for air, almost growling, adding to my own vocalizations that I could hardly identify as my own; a high pitched keening noise was coming out of my throat. I felt my balls bunch up, and an orgasm from nowhere surged through me. Paulo slowed his rabbit fucking and held deep in me, feeling my internal contractions as my cock emptied itself a second time. He moaned from deep in his chest, then picked up the pace again, his staccato breathing punctuated by hard, deep thrusts that kept my spent cock hard and bouncing, spewing ropes of cum from the tip.

Suddenly, in mid frenetic fuck, he pulled completely out of me with. My abused ass roared in pain as his thick cockhead passed through. Immediately I felt a hot shot of semen on the back of my balls, a hard squirt that I could actually hear. Another long, solid shot to my nuts, and Paulo released the breath he was holding with a guttural, animal cry. I felt the next shot on my ass, drenching my right cheek. Another shot surprised me by landing at my shoulder first, and then roping down along my back. Paulo's gasping and groaning continued, and a few more shots must have missed me entirely but I heard them landing on the bed somewhere.

My ass felt empty. No, not just my ass, my whole body felt empty without Paulo's heat inside me. I didn't want to move, and although I was grateful he didn't cum inside me, I was also disappointed he hadn't. I wanted him back. I turned around, and completely out of character for me, I plunged my mouth over his cock and proceeded to clean it off. Something drove me to want to repay the feelings I'd been given. Paulo moaned and leaned back on his haunches, still breathing rapidly. I was gentle, licking first, then opening my mouth to take that spent cockhead and clean it completely. I let my tongue probe around, and then when I could taste no more of his sweet semen, I withdrew, not wanting to hurt his sensitive organ.

I worked my way up his body, kissing and running my tongue over every hill and valley until I got to his full lips. He kissed me hard, swinging his arms around me until we were locked together, then he lowered us both on to the bed, unwinding his legs until were chest to chest again.

"Thank you so much" he whispered, "I have not cum in weeks, thank you, thank you" he punctuated his sentence with a kiss, deep and long. My ass was humming, my whole body was vibrating, and he was thanking me. I was conflicted. On the one hand, I'd just engaged in bareback sex with a near stranger that practically raped me. On the other hand, I'd like to do it again. My body, spent, sated, and somewhat sore, relaxed and I pulled him close.

We must have dozed off because an annoying buzzing was drawing my attention. It took me a few moments for the fog to clear enough to recognize the buzzing as my cell phone, tucked in my pants over in the corner of the room. Paulo heard it too and stirred to life, then jerked awake, turning to his dresser.

"It's mine" I said, giving him a quick hug. He sighed and rolled off me, letting me get up to fish for the phone. I flipped it on at the last ring before voicemail.

"Mr. Lewis? The tow driver is en route to your location. Are you near your vehicle sir?" I'd forgotten about my car.

"Can he call me when he's almost here? I don't want to freeze to death waiting for him" I snapped. The call was a harsh way back to reality. I was putting my pants on as I talked.

"Yes sir, the driver will call when he's nearby, that will be in a about fifteen minutes."

"Thank you" I said, and ended the call. I looked over to the bed. Paulo was on his side, propping his head up with his hand.

"Tow truck?" he asked, looking a little sad. I nodded and pulled my arms through my shirt sleeves.

"He's going to be here shortly, I have to go out to meet him."

Paulo nodded. I wondered if he was having second thoughts. Rather than get all awkward, I dressed quickly. I was spared any weird silences by the buzzing of the cell phone again. This time, it was his, rattling across the dresser. He jumped from the bed to answer it, and I occupied myself with my shoes.

The conversation was brief, and I wished my command of Portuguese were better. Paulo spoke in hushed tones, and said `no' a lot. He wasn't as adamant as his last conversation, but I could tell that he wasn't pleased either. As he hung up, my own phone buzzed; it was the driver. He was around the corner.

"I have to go" I said, uncomfortable with feeling like I was bolting for the door.

"I understand" he replied. He'd pulled on his boxers, his hands rubbing his thighs nervously. The distance between us was only a few feet, but it felt like an impassible gulf.

"Thank you Paulo, for your hospitality, and for, well, for everything. You're a very special guy." I sounded like a greeting card even to myself. Paulo smiled a little and nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Lewis. I hope maybe..." He trailed off. My brain was stuck on `Mr. Lewis' considering he'd just fucked me stupid; you'd think he'd be past the formality.

"Maybe?" I coaxed. I really didn't know what the hell I wanted. Back in my clothes, I was starting to feel very out of sorts. He should be the one with the aching ass, no me. My old top self was being deliberately obtuse, making my bottom boy say the words I wanted to hear: `Will I see you again?'

Paulo continued to rub his legs, "Maybe, you know, you can stay tonight?" he finally asked. Quickly adding, "The storm is very bad, and I don't hear plows."

My internal conflict crescendoed. I wanted a rematch, badly, with roles reversed. But at the same time, I was beat. I craved my shower and bed. After two eruptions, I was ready to go home and call it a night.

"I can't, Paulo" came out of my mouth before I realized it. "I want to, but I can't" I said stupidly. I wasn't used to being the sub in anything, and my forebrain was fighting hard to get me out of the situation while the rest of me yearned to stay.

Paulo nodded again, "I understand, please drive carefully, OK?"

I bridged the gap between us and grabbed his shoulders, kissing him hard. "Thank you" I said again. I turned quickly and gathered my suit and coat before I changed my mind. I stomped down the hallway, arguing with myself all the way to the outer door. The storm hadn't abated one bit. In no time I saw the bright orange lights flickering through the snow. I pulled my coat tight. I was a bit sweaty still, and the wind cut through every crevice. The driver was clearly not happy to be out in this mess, and he assessed the situation very quickly. With the snow piled up, I had to look twice to see which tire was flat.

"So you don't have a spare?" he asked. He gave me that look that only other guys get; the one that says, `what, you're too prissy to change a tire yourself?'

"Yeah, I do, but it's under the fuckin truck" I replied by way of explanation. He didn't like that either. He kicked the snow around and looked at me, then went to his truck to get something. I backed up under the awning to get out of the wind a bit.

The guy changed the tire quickly, having the advantage of a hydraulic jack and bigger tools than come with the cars. I slunk out from the shelter to open the tailgate to stow the flat tire and he shot me another smirk. Fuck him, I thought, that's why I pay for the auto club. He stowed his gear and motioned me up into his cab. The cab reeked of oil, cigarette smoke, and sweat. The heater was cranked to the highest setting, but it was barely keeping up with the cold creeping in from the exposed metal He filled out a form and handed it to me to sign.

"Alls I need now is your club card" he said, tearing off a copy of the form and shoving it into the console between us.

I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and realized that I didn't have it. It must have fallen out in Paulo's room. The driver gave me a nasty look.

"I must have left it inside" I said, patting my pockets uselessly. With my overcoat open, I looked like I'd just rolled out of bed, which I had. A little twinge in my ass reminded me of the very different world I'd just stepped out of. The driver was staring down at me with a nasty smirk. "Look, I'm sure you have the number there on the record, I mean do you really need the card?" I pleaded. He kept staring, and I followed his gaze. To my horror, there was a gob of cum on my pant leg.

"I really need the card" he growled, "or else I get into a lot of trouble. You don't want that do you?" He looked up at me and gave me a little smile that didn't move past his nose. "Got any other ideas?" he asked. To emphasize his point, he adjusted his crotch. "Got really wet changing that tire" he said, staring at my pants again.

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 2


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