Melting Pot

By rilobo1 schoengut

Published on Jun 17, 2020

Gay

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Many thanks to readers who've contacted me with kind words and story suggestions! I'm listening to you!

My apologies for the delay, but work is a pesky thing... I have more chapters I've been working on between work, but wanted to throw this shorter chapter out to you.

While elements and scenes in this story are based in reality, all of the characters and activities herein described are 100% fictional, and the story is 100% mine - please don't reuse without permission. Constructive comments are welcome at RILOBO1@yahoo.com

Melting Pot - Chapter 15 by Rilobo1

Having had sex with two men and three boys in the last few days, I was worn out, and ready for bed. Still, it was a very good "worn out," considering the dry spell I'd been through these last few years. I took a few minutes to start planning out and arranging what needed to be accomplished this week, and checked to make sure there were no "landmine" customer problems lurking in my email. Then, the thought occurred to me that Juergen had not mentioned anything about getting Jonas registered in school, so I called him and asked what his plans were. He said that he was planning to go to Indian Creek Elementary School tomorrow morning, so I asked if he would like me to accompany him: he gratefully accepted. I told him that it would be better to wait until about 9:00 AM to go there, as the streets in Clarkston were usually choked with school buses and college students. The Elementary School sat across the street from two college campuses, and between a high school, and the Georgia School for the Deaf with its buses from all over the metro Atlanta area. Clarkston, being the landing place for refugees from all over the world, also had a very large number of first-time adult drivers: during rush hours, it is frequently best to stay at home.

Juergen asked what information the school would need, and I told him school records, immunization records, and their passports/visa information and apartment lease. I giggled to myself knowing that all of those documents (and more,) as well as notarized copies and translations were likely snugly bundled up alphabetically in a neat notebook -- Germans are predictable that way. Anyway, most of the documents would be, let's say, "required", but wouldn't be demanded. DeKalb county schools, with a huge number of undocumented residents frequently didn't have many of these documents; it's said that they have adopted an informal "don't ask, don't tell" policy in that regard, knowing that it is far more important for every child to get a good education than it is to know immigration details. Having crossed these things off the list, Juergen confirmed that they'd be down around 9:00 AM, and we would set about getting Jonas in school. Everything set up, I turned my eyes upward toward Atul's apartment, and sent a silent wish up hoping that Rana had gone to sleep, leaving my bronze god in peace. This was unlikely, as my display of linguistic prowess had likely only thrown gasoline on her smoldering, vengeful, ill-tempered soul. I stopped myself before building up ire in myself -- not a good way to end a day -- and turned to getting ready for bed. I decided on a shower, and cleaned myself thoroughly, inside and out, in the warm water. Before lights out, I lubed myself in hopeful (and prayerful) anticipation of a late night visit from my man.

I had just gotten to dream sleep when I heard the front door opening and then closing. I shook my head awake, checked to see that it was just after 1:00 AM, turned on the bedside light, and called out "Atul?" I heard his bare feet stomp on the tile floor as he strode down the hallway to my bedroom. When he came in, I could see in his eyes and on his face that he was quite agitated emotionally. I stood up, and grabbed him in a bear hug. Atul began sobbing into my neck, not saying anything (as if he could've gotten anything out): at that moment, he needed physical contact with someone who loved him more leaned back to look me squarely in the eyes. He had only five simple words: "I need to fuck you." Our pelvises were still in hard contact from our embrace. I was naked, and he was in a wife beater and gym shorts; it was clear that he was free-balling too, as I felt his cock rapidly rise to the tempo of his heartbeat. In only seconds, his dick had arisen to full mast, putting pressure on my scrotum, his curved glans poking and prodding for my hole through his shorts. I pulled back, laid down on my back in the middle of the bed, spread and raised my legs, and said "Then fuck me. Now. I'm ready." My bronze god wasted no time, tore off what few items of clothing he had on, got between my legs, and lined up. I could feel the oozing pre-come glistening at my hole. He reached out for the lube, but I slapped his hand away as he had done to me the day before. I told him that I was ready, and all he needed to do was fuck me. He snarled like a feral dog, and sank his 8.5 inches in to the root in one broad stroke, locking his eyes firmly onto mine. I felt a mental and emotional connection I had never felt before; if the building were on fire, I doubt I could've broken that connection.

That's how it started. Within seconds, he started a low growling sound that emanated from his throat on each powerful in-stroke. On the out-stroke, he did not withdraw fully, but I could feel his plum-sized head drawing my sphincter outward. Just as he was about to establish his rhythm, he grabbed my feet, and interlaced his fingers with my toes: the feeling was amazing! We were connected to each other in yet another way! He spread his arms out widely, thus spreading my feet and legs with them. He leaned back, spit some saliva onto our connection point, and leaned back forward. I looked up at him and said "I love you. Fuck all your aggression into me. Fuck me hard! Show me that I belong to you!" Seconds later, he found his rhythm. He was snarling, growling and pounding into me with long, aggressive, dominant strokes. I could feel and hear his scrotum slapping into my distended crack just below my hole. For many minutes I couldn't move, so firmly he was nailing me to the mattress. The only breaks in the rhythm occurred when he would pull back to add saliva, or collect the pre-cum from my own drooling cockhead to add to his cock. Then he was back off to the races.

I could feel the pressure and the pleasure building up inside me, only to increase exponentially when the fingers between my toes pushed my legs forward, allowing his cock head a harder angle banging into my prostate. Atul's face, chest, and torso were soon covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and his pungent, masculine pheromones drenched the air, giving me yet another avenue to forge a connection with him; I will never forget his scent at that moment. I had to have more of him inside me! I spread my legs even further until they were nearly at the point of pain, and reached down to pull my ass cheeks wide apart enough to get any additional half inch of his glorious monster inside me. He must have noticed this, as he sped up his tempo and pressure. Soon, the walls were echoing with the sounds of slapping, and the headboard was tapping against the wall. He noticed this, and growled out: "I hope you can hear this, you bitch! This is the sound of your husband FUCKING the man he loves!" By this time, my thoughts were totally incoherent, but Atul wasn't finished. He changed his attack, and began short, pounding strokes right into my prostate. He also released my toes so he could bend down and kiss me, with his hands now at my shoulders. He then diverted his lips to my neck, just below my left ear, kissing it hard. He started growling "I. Love. You." repeatedly into my ear and neck at the tempo of his strokes, and I could take no more: my entire body went into spasm, and I could feel my eyes rolling back into my head. Just at that moment, he plowed and planted deep, releasing his flood. I felt him fire off his first volley of cum, but don't remember anything after that, as the room went dark and silent.

At some point I came back to consciousness with a gasp. It took a few moments to reorient myself with the world. Atul's sweaty, smiling face was close to mine. I could feel his breath on my neck and upper chest, and the very recent memory of a fuck-for-the-ages came back to me. I could also feel Atul's cock throbbing, and still firmly plunged in to my very depths. He stared into my newly refocused eyes, and both of us muttered the words "I love you" simultaneously. I knew I had a grin on my face, and Atul had a broad, toothy smile on his. I could've crawled into that dimple on his left cheek, and died a happy man. The only thought I had in my head is that I've been to heaven. He then began kissing my lips gently, humming with satisfaction into my mouth. I felt him move his still hard cock in a circular motion inside me, pulling out and in a bit. I could also feel wetness on and in my hole. Atul pulled his head back, looked me in the eyes, and said "Thank you Rich. I really needed to fuck you, and now, I really need to make love to you." My leg muscles were exhausted by that time, and he sensed it. He grabbed my knees to pull them in close to his chest, and moved his hands down to my feet to bring them together, crossing them on his ass, so their weight could rest on him. He then leaned forward, so that our chests were being glued together by my own emission I'd left there. He scooted his elbows up under my shoulders, bringing his hands together, cradling the back of my head. He began slow, gentle thrusts in and out of me; he moved his mouth down to my left ear, and began kissing it, and whispering in it between kisses the following:

"Thank you for defending me from Rana. When you said that, I lost any doubt that you are the one I love and need. Nobody has ever made me feel so loved and respected. You make me feel like a valued man for the first time in my life. I have had enough of life with her, and I called my father in Hyderabad to tell him so. It was a long and tense conversation, but I told him everything (except about you), and told him I would start seeking a divorce from Rana tomorrow. I could hear him and my mother screaming over the phone, but they shut up when I told them I would rather die than live with her even one more day. I have a feeling that they will show up at the Atlanta airport in a matter of days, and things may be tense."

I knew I had just heard a whale of an understatement: family pride was on the line, and there would be some hell that would have to be paid. I just rubbed his back in a soothing manner, and kissed the side of his head in comfort. Atul continued: "Rich, would it be possible for me to stay with you for some days or weeks until I can find a solution to this problem?"

Would it?? Indeed!! I moved my hands down to his ribcage and pushed him up so that I could look into his brilliant hazel eyes. I didn't want to wait even a millisecond lest he grow concerned about my reaction to his query. I immediately said "Baby, I love you. I never want to see you in pain. My home is your home -- forever."

Atul just moaned, began administering longer -- but soft, and very wet -- strokes into me. He tightened his embrace on my chest and neck and I wrapped my legs around him even tighter. He lowered his lips to my ear again, and said "I will divorce her and send her back to India. My parents will want me to return there too, but I will refuse them." He then stopped his strokes, and raised himself up to look me in the eyes again, saying very formally "and then I will take you to a beautiful place, and ask you to marry me."

I started crying. How could I not? My response "and I will gratefully say `yes'!" Again, that beautiful dimple!

We both began a passionate kiss with tongues, and the strokes recommenced. Nothing more was said until many minutes later when he said "baby," (the first time he'd called me "baby" -- my heart began soaring) "I am going to cum again". He put his tongue back into my mouth and I moved my hands down to his glorious ass cheeks, worshiping and squeezing them. I also began squeezing my sphincter tightly on his shaft as his thrusts became more urgent. He shifted position a little, and I soon found the head of his penis was caressing my prostate -- with a great deal of pressure. It didn't take long until I began another orgasm, tightly clenching his shaft. He moved in deep once again, and deposited another huge load. I could feel the overflow escaping my hole, and knew that tomorrow would be laundry day once again. It didn't matter, because the mess belonged to my man.

A few minutes later, we both got our breath back. We untangled, and I jumped up to get towels, and came back to clean us -- and the bed -- up a bit. It was now 2:30 AM, and we both had things to do in the morning. I asked him what time he had to get up, and he said he would get up when I get up. It seems he had already brought down some of his clothes and his toiletry items in anticipation of spending some time with me. I smiled, and began planning immediately where he would be placing his items in "our" bathroom. With that, we both turned onto our left sides, and I cuddled up to his back, spooning him tightly. I could smell the musk on his neck, placed my arms around his shoulder and chest, threaded his fingers into my own, and fell into the most contented sleep I've ever had. We both stayed in that position for the rest of the night, and it was glorious.

Next: Chapter 16


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