Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma, Consensual, Romantic, Gay, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Petting, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Dusty seduces a sexy, shy tenor from the audience, and makes him "sing" in a private performance.
Dusty saw Deb coming across the quad and gave a little wave. Deborah, actually but she hated that, insisted that people call her Deb. In her opinion Deborah was a name you'd give someone that you expected to speak with her teeth clenched and play the violin, not someone who laughed like a donkey and played the electric bass in a garage band. They had agreed to meet for the concert on the commons at 5:30 on their way to see Deb's favorite group, an a capella band called Word of Mouth. Naturally, she was late.
Deb stopped about 15 feet from where he stood leaning against a tree with his legs crossed at his ankles, looking him over like a buffet at Sizzler. His sleeveless t-shirt fit like a second skin, with the words I'm With Stupid and an arrow pointing at the fly of his 501s. His auburn locks in their perpetual disarray. Five minutes after brushing his hair, it would be an unruly mess, forever looking like he had just climbed out of bed from a hot session with some lucky guy. Taken on their own, his finely sculpted features and golden brown eyes were pretty but a strong masculine aura gave him an air of confidence and predatory, raw sexuality that saved him from the label of "boy toy". No one ever thought to question it.
"Do you have any idea how many times I've wished you were straight, Dusty?" she sighed melodramatically as she approached him.
"I'd guess about as many times as I've wished Mel Gibson would suck my cock. You know, my little brother Trevor looks a lot like me and I'd bet he'd really go for some mature poon," he wore a wicked grin as he said this.
"Ick, man, he's barely legal. Plus, he's probably a virgin. What, I ask you, would I do with a virgin?"
"The same thing you'd do with a non-virgin, only more times probably, not to mention the fact that you wouldn't have to deal with any bad habits that he might have picked up from some other chick. You'd be training him from scratch, babe. Think of it, he's basically a walking erection who would be extremely eager to please,"
"Damn. You make a good case. I just might have to seriously think about it,"
They walked over to where he had parked his VW and climbed in. He loved his van. While it was the furthest thing from sexy, it had plenty of room in the back for a good-sized mattress, which he kept a 400-thread count set of fresh and folded sheets sitting on the middle of, ready for anything.
Once they arrived and found their seats, they had about a half hour to wait for the show to start. Dusty was amazed that Deb was able to get tickets at such a late date. The band was starting to build a reputation in the States and the hall filled with fans proved it. They already had bedrock following from when they were on a kids' show some years back. That was how Deb got hooked on them. They had been very popular overseas but had only recently begun to make waves over here.
"Deb, you never said how you got the tickets and passes," Dusty whispered.
Also whispering, she replied, "I went online and bought them from their site months ago. It seemed to take forever for them to arrive,"
About a minute before seven, the house lights lowered some, the stage lights came up and a voice announced the group. And there it was, that incredibly sexy voice coming through the sound system. The prime tenor for the group came out onto the stage, strutting like he owned the place.
"God, he's so hot! I just wanna throw him down right there and have my way with him," Dusty sighed.
"I don't think you'd stand a chance. I'm telling ya, he's not gay. Look at how he's focusing on the ladies out here, " Deb argued.
"It's camo, babe. All an elaborate act. He's not out of the closet yet,"
"Nah, he's flirting with that woman Keith just hauled up on stage. He's all rubbing his ass on hers and everything. I'm telling ya, Chris is straight. You'd have a better chance with Jed, the percussionist. I don't get why you're into him anyway. He's not your usual type.
This was true enough. He usually went for jock types, big muscles, big cocks, little brains and little in the way of talent outside the bedroom or the field. There was just something about this guy though. He was average height with light colouring and somewhat sharp features. If he were a woman, his physique would be willowy. What an athlete would think of as a swimmer's build.
"I know, but Chris is just sizzling. Look at him jumping around up there. The guy is a huge ball of energy. He must be incredible in the sack, plus that sexy voice? Sheeit, Deb, you know what I'd give to make that guy whine like a kitten. If you need some proof that he's gay, I'll give it to ya,"
"How?" Deb demanded.
"Patience, Grasshopper. All will become clear in time," he said with a smug grin.
Dusty looked around at the other people seated in the auditorium. The place was big and steeply tiered. The head of the person sitting in front of him was at chest level. Figuring anyone onstage would be able to just about see into the laps of the audience, he prepared himself to gather the proof Deb wanted.
They were starting a slow song just then and Dusty gave his full attention to Chris as he began singing. Chris was scanning the audience, making eye contact now and again and Dusty's goal was to catch his eye and hold it. His eyes scanned past, lingering only for a second but then snapped back, drawn to Dusty like ball bearings to an electric magnet.
Dusty knew what he saw was a guy in the third row staring directly at him and lightly stroking his package, while wearing a "come hither" expression. Dusty's grin widened when Chris actually faltered, his voice seemed to catch in his throat for a split second. His eyes lingered on the movement of the hand, then catching himself he flushed and looked away. After that, the singer's eyes would skitter back every few seconds, never staying away for long. At the end of the song, the group exited stage right to get ready for the next number.
"Jesus wept! You and your fucking gaydar. I really hate you right now. You know how hot I am for him and you have to go and prove to me that he's a fag. Thank you sooooo much," Deb's eyes were shooting daggers at Dusty, who just laughed.
Back stage, Chris felt like he'd slipped through the looking glass. He couldn't believe the heavenly creature flirting with him from the third row. If you could call what the redhead was doing flirting. He'd never had anything like this happen, and wasn't at all sure how to handle it. His experience was limited to being picked up in a 7-11 once and another time while he was reading in Central Park. This guy had to be messing with him. He was just too good looking to be honestly interested.
Kevin and the others started making obvious innuendoes while he adjusted his clothes to hide the evidence of his arousal. It was intended as gentle teasing among friends but they weren't helping the situation. At first, he hadn't even been sure the attention was aimed at him. He had to believe it, since the others had concluded that there was something to rib him about.
Chris could usually give as good as he got when it came to joking around, but he seemed to have lost his equilibrium. Gary decided to take matters into his own hands.
"Guys, time to let up. We can't go back out onstage with him all flustered like this,"
Dusty and Deb were still whispering together when the band returned to the stage, arranging themselves for their next number. Chris' outfit was a bit different. He was wearing grey slacks, a midnight blue silk shirt under a grey and blue waistcoat with a grey jacket that matched the slacks. When he came back out on stage, the jacket was tied low, around his slender hips, the knot of the sleeves directly in front of his fly. He was still strutting but seemed a little less comfortable.
Right away, he started trying to catch Chris' eye again. It wasn't difficult to do. His eyes were obviously drawn to him. Every time Chris looked at him, Dusty was doing something erotic. To keep the singer's attention he had undone his belt and the top button of his jeans so that he could adjust himself, making sure Chris was looking when he did it.
Dusty had kept up his campaign of seduction for most of the concert and he was really starting to hope it would be over soon as his balls were really starting to ache from the constant state of arousal he had kept himself in while putting on his show for Chris.
As soon as the group said good night and it was clear they wouldn't be coming out for a third encore, he was out of his seat, catching Deb's hand and working his way past the other people in their row.
"You have no idea how glad I am that you got those back-stage passes, girl. I think I'd have to break someone's head if they wouldn't let me back there right now," he said as he buckled his pants and then banged on the entrance to the rear of the theatre.
When a little goth girl, holding a clipboard, opened the door, Deb flashed the passes at her. The two were ushered in, and pointed towards the dressing room.
Walking down the corridor, they had no trouble finding the guys. The door was open and there were several fans already in there with them, getting autographs, talking with the group members and having their pictures taken with them.
Dusty stepped into the room, scanning the place for Chris. He spotted him coming out of what appeared to be a washroom, toweling his hair dry. With a relieved smile, Dusty made a beeline for him.
Stopping in front of him, Dusty said, "Hey,"
Chris pulled the towel down onto his shoulders and looked up to see who spoke to him and froze. The look of astonishment on the guy's face was comical.
"Uh... hey. Umm, you... enjoy the show? You want an autograph or something?" he stammered.
"Yeah, to all of the above. The show was great, I'd love an autograph and the 'or something' too,"
He reached up and smoothed the wet hair off Chris' forehead, his hand sliding to the back of his neck as he leaned in slightly, his golden brown eyes locked on Chris' baby blues. Dusty's right hand was just brushing the shirt at his waist when a large, heavy hand landed on Dusty's shoulder and pulled him around. Dusty found himself looking at an Adam's apple. Looking up he recognized the base singer in the group, Gary.
"Dude, what's your prob?" Dusty asked, as he stepped back with care. He didn't want to trample Chris.
"You're leaning, man. And I don't like it,"
"What business is it of yours, big guy? He your squeeze or something?"
"No. He's my friend and your actions are clearly making him uncomfortable. Therefore, it becomes my concern. Shall we discuss this in private?"
"What makes you think I wanna go anywhere with you, man?"
"Gary, it's cool, really," Chris protested.
"No. It's not cool, Chris. We're going to have a talk as soon as the meet and greet is over. His behavior is inexcusable," It was a bit loud in the room and Gary was speaking quietly so the rest of the fans wouldn't hear what was going on.
It took a good hour. Dusty waited out of the way, watching the brouhaha. Finally, the last roll of film had been exposed, one final autograph book was christened and a last minute "Thanks, guys!" said. Looking around to see if everyone had left, Gary spotted Deb talking with Kevin.
Reaching for her, he said, "Sorry, miss but it's getting kind of late and we still have things to do before we can leave. Would you excuse us, please?"
"She's with me," Dusty interjected. "She's my best friend. Anything you think you need to say to me can be said in front of her, 'cuz I'd just tell her anyway,"
"That cool with you, Chris?" Gary asked.
"None of this is cool, man," Chris looked very uncomfortable.
"So, this is about protecting his virtue or something? Like, you wanna know what my intentions are or what?"
"Your intentions are perfectly clear, son. I have no issue with your intentions. What I do have an issue with is your actions. What you were doing during the concert was not a problem, seeing as how the audience couldn't tell what was going on, but in here anyone paying the least bit of attention to the two of you would have seen what was going on. At this point in time, Chris is not out to the general public. His reasons are his own and I respect them, as should you,"
"Hey, I didn't know, man. I'm sorry. Honest, how could I know he's still in the closet? I mean, just 'cuz someone don't advertise that they're gay, don't mean they're hiding it, right?"
"That's true but you need to be more discreet in the future. You should always assume that someone hasn't come out unless you know for certain otherwise,"
"Yeah, you're right. I'll be more thoughtful in the futu—"
"YAH! Who just grabbed my ass?" Deb shrieked.
The three of them were standing fairly close together, so when she jumped forward in surprise, she slammed up against Gary then ricocheted off him and back into Dusty. He steadied her, while looking at who had been standing behind her. Jed had a shit-eating grin on his face. Dusty grinned back.
"I'd say the percussionist is the culprit, Deb. Weren't you saying you thought he was cute?"
"No, I said you'd have a better chance with him than Chris. I thought for sure he was the gay one. "
"Hey! Why would you think I'm gay?" he demanded, clearly affronted.
"Come on, look at how you dress. Straight men do not wear button down, silk shirts open and untucked, with a tight t-shirt underneath," she replied.
"I told you, man. Do you believe me now?" Chris asked, snickering at Jed.
"Shit. No wonder I never get laid," he muttered.
"You know, you're real cute when you pout?" Dusty commented.
"Back off, dude, I don't fly that way," he said defensively, but turned his puppy dog eyes on Deb while he said it. She smiled and he brightened.
"So, are we through here?" Dusty inquired.
Gary appeared to ponder for a moment, "Yes, I think we are,"
Dusty turned to Chris, who smiled shyly at him. "Wanna get out of here?"
"I can't. Not right this minute, anyway. Someone might see and snap to what's up,"
"Why aren't you out? I mean, it's not like you'd loose your female fans, and you'd gain tons of male fans. Seriously, the girls who are infatuated with you would be disappointed, but they wouldn't be pissed. Isn't that right, Deb?"
"That's about how I feel. I'm pissed at Dusty here, not you," she responded, punching him lightly in his abdomen, intending to hit his tight six-pack, but her aim was higher and harder than she had meant.
She wound up hitting him right in the solar plexus, causing hit breath to rush out and his diaphragm to seize up. His arms flapped about like a wounded bird, until his right hand landed on Chris' shoulder, his fingers spasmed closed, causing him to clutch a handful of vest and shirt.
"Oh shit, hahaha, I'm sorry, hehe, I didn't mean, HAHAHAAAA..." She tried to apologize but seeing Dusty looking like a stunned, beached carp was just about the funniest sight she'd ever seen.
"Are you OK, Dusty?" Chris enquired, looking concerned.
Dusty stumbled back, the back of his legs struck a vanity chair and he sat down heavily. He still had a handful of Chris' clothes and dragged the singer along, tangling their feet as he lost his balance, involuntarily sitting down. Chris suddenly found himself in Dusty's lap, straddling his legs. Dusty's face pressed into the side of the surprised tenor's neck, just as his lungs decided to start working again.
He gasped in a tremendous lungful of air, then panted heavily into Chris' neck and ear. Despite the way that they had ended up in this position, Chris quietly groaned and shuddered as he closed his eyes to enjoy the single most erotic experience of his life. Dusty felt Chris' instant erection press hard into his flat stomach and slid his hands to his ass to pull him closer. They looked around when they heard someone clearing their throat loudly, obviously trying to get their attention.
"I think that all of us in here would appreciate it if the two of you would wait until we don't have to be present. It was bad enough watching the two of you eye-fucking each other during the performance. I really don't have any desire to see more, thank you," Gary said when he had their attention.
Chris scrambled up, turning crimson. Dusty stood, rubbing his mid-section, while asking, "Well, if we can't leave together, how are we gonna handle this?"
"I don't know. I've... I mean, its been... I... I... I have a room that I share with Jed," Chris stuttered. Dusty couldn't keep from smiling; everything about Chris seemed so sweetly innocent and compelling.
"Not a problem," Deb assured Chris. "Jed and I'll be getting our own room," Jed suddenly looked astonished, but his expression switched to child-like glee in the next second.
"How about we meet you guys at your motel?" The red head inquired of Chris.
"Uuuh... yeah, that'd be great," the singer reliped.
"Which one are you in... and what room?" Dusty asked.
"The Ramada, room number 232," Chris said quickly.
"Great, see you there," Dusty slid his hand behind Chris' head, his right slipping to the small of his back.
He pulled him in close, his lips just barely brushing Chris'. His tongue snaked out and swiped at his bottom lip, Chris gasped, startled by the unexpected sensation. Dusty took advantage of his parted lips by slipping his tongue into the warm depths of his mouth. It was obvious that Chris would have hit the floor if Dusty hadn't been so strong. As it was, Chris just sort of sagged like a rag doll, his knees completely unequal to the task of holding him up. Dusty gave his ass a little squeeze as he got him back onto his feet.
"See ya there?"
"Right... sure... you bet," Chris looked beyond dazed.
"Right. Let's go, Deb," Dusty said, turning to his friend.
As they left, the band could hear Deb continuing her complaint to Dusty about getting pointers on making a guy swoon.
"God, help me! I think I'm in love," Chris was leaning back against the wall for support.
"Lust," said Gary.
"Same difference," Eric piped in.
Deb was standing in the lobby, waiting for them but Dusty was nowhere in sight. Looking concerned, Chris approached her. She smiled and pointed upstairs. Quickly returning her smile, he was off, moving towards the elevator like the hounds of hell were on his heels.
When the door opened, he saw Dusty leaning back against the ice machine, ankles crossed, thumbs hooked in his pockets, fingers framing his basket. The entire pose designed to display the goods to their best advantage. Chris stood there, enraptured. He snapped out of the trance when the door started to close again and reached out to stop it.
"Which way?" Dusty asked as he reached down to pick up the paper bags by his feet.
"To your room... which way?"
"Oh, right. Follow me," Chris said, flushing slightly and heading out of the elevator alcove.
Dusty was walking so close to him he could feel his body heat. His warm breath washed over the back of Chris' neck, sending goose bumps down his arms and across his chest. Chris felt like his guts were turning to jelly. He absolutely could not get the damned key card to work right. Dusty reached around him and caught his hand. Taking the key card, he unlocked the door for them and using full body pressure, got Chris moving into the room ahead of him. Once across the threshold, he put out the do not disturb sign and grabbed the ice bucket.
"What's in the bags?"
"Have a look see, while I go get some ice," Dusty replied, smiling.
Chris started pulling stuff out of the bag. A 5th of Raspberry Smirnoff, another of coconut Captain Morgan's rum, blue plastic cups and some snack food. He had just pulled a large box of ultra thin Ramses and a big bottle of lube that claimed to, Make it last through any extreme situation with our new 'waterless', condom safe formula that never dries out! Smooth, silky texture lasts and lasts until you're done, when Dusty came back in with the ice. He blushed and dropped the bottle like he'd been burned.
Dusty grinned, "You have done this before, haven't you?"
"Yeah... sure... of course. It's just been a while and never with..."
Dusty strolled over to him, leaned into the shorter man's back and asked, "With what?"
"With someone... ssso... h-hot," his insides were quivering again and he couldn't seem to control his voice around this guy.
With his mouth right by Chris' ear, he whispered, "Mmmm, thanks but I find that hard to believe. You're a hot little number yourself, all wiry muscles and untapped energy. I'm dying to see which one of us wears out first."
That deep voice right in his ear, the warm breath puffing against his hair and neck had Chris in such a state of arousal that if Dusty had touched him at that moment, he would have blown his load right then. He already had a wet spot on his underpants, and slacks from precome. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he started seeing spots. Luckily, Dusty moved away to pour some drinks and he was able to take a breath and try to regain his equilibrium.
"Smirnoff or Captain Morgan?"
"Which ever, I don't care."
"OK. Captain Morgan it is."
He sat on one of the beds as Dusty played bartender. He took the glass that the red head offered him and drained it.
"Whoa, I don't want you incapacitated, just relaxed."
"Don't worry about it; I have a really fast metabolism. Alcohol doesn't affect me as much as most people. As a matter of fact, I think I need another," he said with conviction and stood to get it.
Dusty stood and caught him around the waist. "Actually, I think what you need is me. Let me give you a massage, I guarantee it'll relax you better than booze. It'll also let you get used to me touching you. We just need to start slow is all, not just jump right in. We've got all night, after all."
He reached around and dug into the second bag, pulling out another bottle, this one containing a yellow-white liquid. When he popped the top, Chris could smell coconut and pineapple.
"Pina Colada flavored massage lotion," he said, smiling lecherously. "Take your clothes off and lie on your stomach on the bed."
Chris spent a couple minutes fumbling with the buttons on his waistcoat, until Dusty took over. The rum didn't seem to be kicking in yet. His coordination was shot because of his nervousness and painful arousal for a couple hours.
He had gotten all of the buttons on Chris's vest and shirt undone, when Chris stopped him.
"I think I'd like to take a quick shower first. If you don't mind?"
"Not in the least. I'll join you," Dusty replied, smiling.
"Well, actually, I'd like to do it alone. I mean, I'd be more comfortable, ya know—if I could just have a few minutes to myself."
"Not a problem. Take your time and once you feel ready, we can enjoy each other," Dusty stepped back to let Chris move past him.
Chris found he could control his fingers with Dusty in the other room and managed to get undressed without trouble. His nerves were on edge; he couldn't believe that this incredibly looking guy actually wanted to be with him. Chris knew his reactions so far had to have made it clear that he didn't have a hell of a lot of experience in the bedroom.
He knew people thought he must be comfortable with sexual matters, because he sang songs about love, sex and intimacy with such conviction but it was just an act. Once you got him off the stage, he was at a complete loss. He had never managed to screw up his courage enough to approach someone that he found attractive. He had only been with two guys and that was because they had approached him.
He finished his shower quickly but stalled for a while. He was afraid to leave the bathroom. Figuring that he might leave soon, if he hadn't already, Chris put on his terrycloth robe and opened the door.
He stepped out, dreading that the room would be empty. When he saw, Dusty slouched on the bed farthest from the door a wave of relief washed over him. Then he didn't know what to do.
"You're shy," It wasn't a question. "Jeez, Chris, how can someone who goes out on a stage all the time, singing and strutting around like he owns the place, be shy?"
"I don't know. I guess when I'm performing, it's like, I know I can give them... I can... I know what's expected of me. I know can fulfill their expectations but this..." He took a deep breath, "I don't... I'm scared that I'll screw up and you'll be like, 'Shit, this guy ain't worth the trouble, I'm outa here.' I mean, I..." His eyes glistened as if he was about to break down and cry.
Dusty felt his heart swell with emotion and it was a startling sensation, to say the least. It was one of those things he had read in books but had always thought was just literary license, not something that actually happened to people. Like, wringing your hands in distress. It was almost funny when he realized that Chris was doing just that, only it was the belt of the robe he was wearing that was taking the abuse, rather than his hands.
Dusty got up from the bed and said, "Come in here," he moved past Chris to enter the bathroom. When Chris didn't follow, he repeated firmly, "Come here, Chris."
The singer took a hesitant step toward him. Dusty reached out and caught his wrist, pulling Chris to stand between him and the mirror. He stood behind him, with his hands lightly on his shoulders. His hands slid down Chris' arms to his waist. They slowly, caressingly glided them around his waist to lie on his trembling stomach. Leisurely, Dusty unwrapped the belt and let the robe fall open. Skimming his hands up through the light thatch of blond hair, Dusty smoothed the robe back off his creamy shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor.
"Look at yourself," he breathed into the shell of Chris' ear, palms resting on his bare hips. "What do you see?"
"What you see," Dusty whispered, "Is someone that I think is extraordinarily sexy. You look at yourself and you wonder, "How can someone I think is beyond gorgeous want to be with me?" What you're not considering is that not everyone would find me as attractive as you do."
Chris made a sound of incredulity.
"Take my word for it. I've been turned down plenty of times. My advice... don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Dusty smiled at him in the mirror as he pulled Chris back into his straining cock. Chris shivered and groaned, lifting his arms to pull Dusty's head into the crook of his neck, while arching his back so that his ass pushed into the denim-clad groin behind him. Chris' erection was flaming red and twitching.
"Now, about that massage..." Dusty took his hand and pulled him into the other room.
Dusty had Chris lie on his stomach, while he stripped and then straddled his hips. Chris could hear him open the lotion bottle, squirt some into his palm and smooth it around to warm it up. Firm hands touched down at his shoulder blades and smoothed up to Chris' shoulders, causing his breath to catch in his throat. After a few minutes of slow, sensual rubbing, he began to relax into the experience. As Dusty slowly moved down his back, Chris could feel his hard cock trailing down the crack of his ass, bumping back and forth.
When Dusty began following his hands with his lips and tongue, he couldn't help but groan and spread his legs slightly. Dusty's entire hands were working his butt cheeks, while his mouth was sending shivers from the base of his spine to the rest of his body. He clutched the pillow and ground his hips into the mattress, whimpering incoherently when Dusty's tongue slipped into the top of his crack.
When he felt the larger man pry his cheeks apart, he held his breath in anticipation. The actual sensation of having this beautiful man swirl his tongue around the edge of his hole, clamp his lips around it and create a suction, was intense but when he flickered and probed it with his agile tongue, it was too much.
He cried out, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm; he was literally blind for a few seconds. Afterward, all he could do was lie there, twitching and gasping for air.
Dusty continued to stroke his back, buttocks and thighs. It was sensual, yes but mostly soothing. It was as if he knew Chris needed to come down before he could stand more stimulation. When his breathing returned to normal, he felt Dusty turning over. He opened his eyes to find the other man smiling down at him.
"And think, that was just a little foreplay," he looked down between their bodies. "You're still hard. God, I knew I was gonna love being with you."
At this, he slid down and began licking up the come that covered Chris' stomach, making little appreciative sounds as he did it. He got as much as he could without touching Chris' still aching cock and then moved back up for a kiss. He kissed Chris' lips for a bit and then slipped his tongue into his mouth. The combined taste of Dusty's mouth, the massage lotion and his own essence was glorious. He never wanted the kiss to end and clutched at the red head when he tried to move back down his body.
Dusty indulged him for a bit but soon pulled away to continue moving down, his lips and tongue exploring every inch between Chris' mouth and his goal. He took the time to bring both of the singer's nipples to an almost painfully erect state. Chris was already losing himself in the new sensations that Dusty was causing to course through his body.
Dusty loved the sexy little whimpers, groans and disjointed words that Chris clearly couldn't control. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out. He'd been hard off and on for a good two and a half hours now and his entire groin was throbbing and aching. He'd nearly lost control when he realized that Chris was blowing his load earlier.
"I need you to do something for me, Chris."
"Anything, what do you need?"
"I'm really starting to hurt, man," he slid up and lay next to him on the cool sheets. "I want to make everything perfect for you but I really need a little relief to be able to do that. Will you just touch me; just use your hands to help me out here, please?"
Chris took a closer look at Dusty and saw the strain in his face and his labored breathing. Looking down from the tanned face, he saw that his cock was so engorged that he could actually see his pulse. It was an angry purple color for half of the length. Rolling to his side, he pushed on Dusty's hip to get him onto his back. Chris continued rolling until he was on his knees, straddling his right leg. He took a few seconds to examine the cock with its silky looking thatch of auburn hair.
This was only the third cock he had ever seen in person, not counting his own. It was long enough that it was drooling precum directly into his navel and looked thick enough that Chris' hand would only just encase the circumference. He placed his palms on Dusty's firm pecs and smoothed his hands down his torso to either side of his cock, never taking his eyes off it. Dusty clutched the sheets on either side of his hips. He couldn't keep from grinding his pelvis into the air while groaning in anticipation.
"You're uncut, aren't you?" Chris asked, looking up. Dusty was biting his lip, looking pained. The best he could do was nod in answer. "I've never seen one that wasn't circumcised. It's beautiful," he breathed.
His reply was to lift Dusty's cock gently out of the way so that he could lick the pool of precum out of his navel. It was salty-sweet, slick, like room temperature jell-o and smelled musky. He smoothed it around his mouth as he moved his face down to the base of Dusty's shaft. With his tongue spread out flat and broad, he licked in one long motion up to the tip, then swirled it around the tip without pausing. He heard Dusty's breath catch and rush out in a loud groan when he tongued the piss slit.
He swirled around the head in a downward spiral until the tip of his tongue slipped under the edge of the glans. Dusty's right hand settled onto the back of his head. It felt like a butterfly in his hair, like he was scared Chris would pull away if he applied the least pressure but Chris could feel it trembling just the same. Wrapping his lips around the entire head, he sucked softly as he slid the shaft into his mouth. He rocked his whole body back until his ass was touching his heels so that he could get his throat into the right position to take him completely in.
Dusty's panted groans almost sounded like laughter, and Chris could see Dusty's balls pulling up hard. He knew Dusty was about to come and didn't want him to yet, so he pulled off almost completely. With his right hand, he gripped the base of his cock, applying uniform pressure all the way around. With his left, he made a circle of his fingers and thumb and carefully pulled Dusty's testicles down. This was a technique he had read about in a book and wasn't entirely sure that it would work the way it said. He waited until Dusty's legs stopped quivering, then retuned to the stimulation.
Taking him in all the way again, the blond bobbed his head up and down slowly, swirling his tongue back and forth on the underside. He'd forgotten how much he loved the feel of a hot, hard cock in his mouth and he intended to enjoy it as long as possible. When Chris went down all the way, he could feel the head twitching in his throat. He was so turned on by the power he held over this god-like man at this moment that he couldn't keep from moaning in pleasure, twisting his head around like he was sucking on a lollypop and bobbing his head up and down rapidly. This was way too much for Dusty to take. When Chris felt him swell, throbbing hard in his mouth he knew he had misjudged the timing. All he could do was pull back so the blast wouldn't choke him and accept the offering.
"Uuh, God, Chris..."
It felt like about a quart of come hit the roof of his mouth, though he knew it couldn't be more than a couple tablespoons. Chris had never seen anyone get so lost in an orgasm before. Every single muscle on Dusty's body was either twitching or standing out in bas-relief. His hips thrust in symphonic rhythms, an almost perfect 4/4 measure. It was the most beautiful sight in the world. He imagined that this must be what Mozart had felt when he conducted one of his great operas, physically guiding the orchestra to play his music exactly the way he heard it in his mind. It was heady and exhilarating.
Once he felt Dusty's penis begin to deflate, he let it slide slowly out of his mouth and gently laid it on Dusty's stomach. He gradually worked his way back up Dusty's body, planting open mouthed kisses along the way, so that they were lying next to each other, he on his side and Dusty still on his back. Dusty's right arm was flung out under the arch of Chris' side and it came up to pull him into Dusty's side at the same time that he turned his head to look at him.
"You know, you act like some kind of a sweet, virgin angel but you got a mouth like the very devil himself. God, damn. I thought I was gonna have a fucking coronary or something. I've had a lot of great blowjobs in my life, Chris but that was the trump. How can you have performance anxiety in the sack when you know how to play cock like Gabriel blowing on Judgment Day?"
"I didn't know I knew how. I mean, I've only done it a couple times and they didn't seem all that thrilled with the way I did it, so I started reading any book I could get my hands on that looked like it might give a clue as to how to do it right.
"Bullshit. Books don't give you the physical ability to deep throat a guy's meat, man."
Chris sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs. He looked extremely uncomfortable again. He mumbled something that Dusty couldn't catch.
"Iprobledwidacucmboble," he said, with his face pressed into the hollow created by his arms and legs.
"Sorry, didn't catch that," Dusty said, propping himself up onto his elbows.
Chris lifted his head and covering his closed eyes with his hands, he repeated, "I practiced with a cucumber. OK? Go ahead, laugh."
"Because, I didn't have the real thing available to me, so I had to improvise!"
"No, why should I laugh?"
"Because, it's pathetic?"
"It's not pathetic, it's inventive. I used to use one when I was living at home. Admittedly, I never thought to use it to practice sucking cock, but still."
"What did you use it for?"
Dusty gave him a look that said he clearly thought he was being thick and it hit him like a two by four what he meant.
"Oh, Jeez. I wonder why that didn't occur to me?"
"Sounds like you were so worried that you hadn't been good enough at pleasing your partners that you never even considered your own pleasure. Did you enjoy your other encounters?"
"Well yeah, I mean, I came and all."
"But you were so dissatisfied with your own performance that, even though you came, it really wasn't good for you. You didn't think they enjoyed it like you thought they should have, right?"
"Maybe, I don't know."
"Let me guess. Both of the other times it was kind of quick and perfunctory? Every time you started to get into a certain thing, the other guy would switch around, like pull you off his dick and start fucking you. Then that would be over so quick that it felt like it wasn't good for him but he still needed to get off, so he rushed it. Then this guy was out the door before you quit breathing hard, right?"
"Yeah!" Chris looked startled that someone had finally been able to put into words what he had been trying to express to himself for years and couldn't figure out how.
"Thought so. It's not unusual. A lot of guys are so concerned with busting a nut that they miss the real pleasure of sex. Guys like that might as well be jacking off. The people that they pick up aren't really people to them, they're personified Roger Palm and his five bros."
Dusty held up his left hand and wriggled his spread fingers in the air, looking disgusted. Chris couldn't help it; he started laughing so hard that he couldn't sit up right. He flopped over onto his side, alternately tittering, snickering and guffawing.
Dusty ran his hand up from the back of Chris' knee, across his ass, letting his fingertips dip into the crack and glide along it and then up his spine, bringing his body back into alignment with Chris' in the process. Chris' laughter turned to a moan of renewed desire. His body involuntarily stretched itself out to its full length; as his flagging member thrust itself back out to full measure
"Damn but you are one luscious little devil, you know that? I just wanna drown myself in you, Angel. I've never known anyone who was so responsive to the simplest touch." He pulled Chris full against his body, stroking the back of his head with his left hand while caressing his back and side with the other.
"You're just a sweet little sex kitten, ain't ya? You just want someone who'll stroke you, pet you and love you," he whispered, nuzzling into Chris's neck.
Between his words, he was devouring Chris' ear, throat and shoulder, licking, sucking and nibbling everything he could reach.
"I can do that, Angel. More than anything else, I wanna be the one that makes you purr like a kitty with a plate of cream. You just tell Daddy what you want, what you need and you'll get it, Angel Baby."
"You mean it?" Chris panted.
Dusty pulled his head back so that he could look him in the eye, "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Now give. What's your heart's desire? What's the one thing you always wanted but never got?
"Could you... would you mind... I've always wondered what it felt like to get a blowjob?" Chris asked tentatively as if he were afraid that if he said what he wanted Dusty would flip out.
"I'm sorry. Never mind, really," he pushed away from Dusty. Dusty's grip had relaxed and Chris rolled over the edge of the bed, winding up on the carpet.
"Whoa, are you OK?"
"No, no, I'm fine... it's OK. I'm sorry... really, it was just a thought, don't worry, I-I-I—"
Dusty sat and swung his feet to the floor, as Chris scrambled to his feet, babbling in apparent terror. Dusty caught the singer by his hips to keep him from backing away, reeling him in to stand between his legs with Chris' shins pressing against the bed.
"Angel, you need to quit thinking that you're the only person out there that loves sucking cock. Believe me when I say that the only thing I love more than long-dicking a man is giving him the best blowjob of his life."
Dusty laughed lasciviously, "Oh, Angel, you'll find out and what's more, you'll love it. Now, let's see about this virgin cock of yours, shall we?"
Chris' cock had fallen to half-mast in his fear but it pulled its self up by its bootstraps as he watched.
"Look at him stand at attention like a proud Marine in parade formation. I love the sight of a soldier ready for action. Makes me wanna spit shine his helmet." Dusty slathered the flat of his tongue in a zigzag up the underside of the straining shaft in front of him.
"Oh, Jesus," Chris' hands grabbed a hold of Dusty's shoulders to keep from hitting the floor again, as his knees turned to water.
"Heh heh, that's my sex kitten, alright. Here, sit down before you fall down, Angel."
Dusty traded places with him, kneeling between his legs and told him to lean back on his arms so that Dusty would have free access but Chris could still see what he was doing. He pushed his legs apart, pulling his ass up to the edge of the bed, while he nibbled Chris' nipples.
It seemed that Dusty's hands were everywhere at once, moving slowly, sensuously. Dusty worked his nipples, sucking, licking and biting them until Chris started rocking his pelvis upward, rubbing hungrily against his chest. He feathered kisses and nips down his chest and stomach until his breath was washing across the tenor's throbbing rod but he slid on past.
Chris' groan of frustration turned to surprised pleasure when he felt his balls fall into Dusty's open mouth. While Dusty lathered his jewels with loving care, he teased the head of Chris' cock with the fingertips of one hand. The other hand was stroking its way into his fissure, searching for his little, pink rosebud.
When Chris began kneading his scalp, just like the kitten he reminded him so much of and making sexy mewling sounds, Dusty knew he could take it to the next level. Without stopping what he was doing with his right hand and mouth, he reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand with his left hand.
He popped it open one handed and used his thighs to squeeze some onto his fingers. Chris gasped in surprise at the cold, wet sensation when Dusty began smoothing it onto his hole but it warmed quickly. When Dusty flicked his tongue up the length of his shaft and engulfed the head of his cock in his hot, wet mouth, he forgot about the momentary discomfort.
Dusty alternated going all the way down on his shaft with long, slow, slurping licks, like a kid going at a Twin-Pop in August, while he worked first one, then two, then three fingers into his tight pucker. Every time he extracted his fingers to get more lube to work into him, Chris would whimper and push his ass up, begging for the penetration to continue.
"Do you want me to fuck you now or suck you off until you come?"
Chris was incapable of responding coherently. The response he tried rather sounded like a turkey on acid.
"Right then. Suck and then fuck. Your wish is my command, Angel."
He went back to work on the twitching member, bobbing his head like a carousel horse and massaging Chris' prostate. Chris took in a huge lungful of air and froze. He didn't make a sound for several seconds, he didn't breath and the only movement was the involuntary quivering in his entire body. Dusty looked up just as the first shot ricocheted off his uvula and Chris' sphincter clamped down on his fingers. The tenor's mouth was open but nothing was coming out. His eyes were half closed and glassy looking, with his head thrown back and to the side.
Simultaneous with the second blast of jism his hips thrust up, his hands started scrabbling around like a couple of spiders and Chris let go with a sound that could have been ultimate pleasure or pain. It reminded Dusty of that question, how you tell if someone is laughing or crying if you can't hear them. He swallowed every drop of fluid that Chris expended into his mouth and nursed at his cock until it started softening just to be sure he didn't miss any.
By this point, Dusty's cock was literally drooling for some attention. He opened the box of condoms, pulled one out and used his teeth to tear it open. After getting it adjusted so it was comfortable and applying a liberal amount of lube, he repositioned Chris so that he was further from the edge of the bed. He got them into the Missionary position with his right knee bent along the side of Chris' body and his left foot braced on the floor for leverage. This was his favorite sexual position, because he could watch his lover's face while he took him.
Dusty knew that after such a powerful orgasm, Chris would never be more relaxed. Dusty carefully worked the head of his cock past Chris' tight little hole, pausing when he stirred at the invasion. Chris languidly ran his hands up and down Dusty's back and pressed his ass upward. That was all the encouragement that Dusty needed. He slowly sank his meat into his hot, welcoming hole, inch by inch.
"Ahhh, shit, Angel," he exclaimed, when Chris wrapped his legs around his hips and pulled him in faster with his heels.
"God, Dusty, it feels incredible. Why doesn't it hurt, like it did before?"
"Because you're ready for it this time. The others must not have taken the time to get you really ready for it. Now, do you remember asking what long-dicking was?"
Dusty began rocking his hips. Forward, back, side to side, then in an orbital rotation, mixing it up and keeping it as random as he could, trying hard not to fall into any kind of a pattern so as to keep Chris' body guessing.
"Ah, ah, God!"
The final sound seemed to go on without pause. Dusty figured it must be the lung capacity of a singer. Up until now, he'd never had a man dig his nails into his back. He was not the least bit surprised when he felt Chris' cock spring back to life and become fully rigid in a matter of seconds. He decided that his little angel was a natural bottom. He didn't know what it was about this guy but Chris surprised him at every turn and everything felt better, more intense some how, with him.
"Oh, Angel. Yeah, you feel so good. On one's ever felt so good, Kitten. God, oh... God, Angel."
He was totally thrown off guard when Chris suddenly pushed with his legs and arms, rolling them over so that he could take the ascendant position. The way Chris started moving once he got himself settled was almost mind blowing. He put his palms flat on Dusty's chest, using his legs as his primary support and mimicked the motions that Dusty had been using on him just a few seconds ago. His eyes were just barely slit open and he was still making that high pitched, leaking balloon sound.
Dusty could feel his orgasm building fast. He reached over, grabbed the lube and squirted a copious amount into his palm. He quickly warmed it between his palms and then began jacking Chris off with his best two-fisted technique; one hand stroking the shaft, while the other worked the head in a rotational pattern.
This must have been too much stimulation for Chris, because he started huffing in time with his gyrating hips. A few seconds later, a dribble of thin looking semen oozed out of his piss slit. Feeling Chris' body spasm and clench around his cock sent Dusty over the edge too. He pushed out on Chris' arms so that his chest smacked down onto his own then rolled them back to their starting position. Just a couple more thrusts and he lost himself in his own ecstasy.
"Angel... baby... my angel... oh, Love... my baby... my kitten..." Dusty whispered desperately between grunts of pleasure and gasps for air.
Neither of them could manage more than panting and quivering with the after shocks for several minutes. Chris reveled in the feeling of Dusty's weight pressing him into the mattress.
Once he had regained his senses, Dusty pulled out of Chris and rolled off pulling Chris into his side. Nestling the blond head in the hollow of his shoulder, he wrapped his left arm around his slender back. The fingers of his right hand began stroking random patterns on Chris' arm and side. Chris' sigh caught his attention. Somehow, it just didn't sound content.
"Something bothering you, Angel?"
"Not really. It's just that I've just discovered that I'm a total girl."
"What does that mean?"
"Never mind. It doesn't matter."
"It matters if it's making you unhappy, Angel. Tell Daddy what's wrong, Kitten," he said, nuzzling into Chris' hair. Dusty loved the smell of his shampoo.
"It's just that I was laying here, perfectly content, when all of a sudden, I remembered something you said a few minutes ago and I wondered if you really meant it and that's something a girl would do."
"I've recently come to the conclusion that there is nothing in the way of behavior that is exclusive to either sex. What did I say?"
"See, you don't even know what the hell I'm talking about. I'm just losing my mind. Feel free to ignore me."
"Your talking about when I was saying, 'my angel, my baby', like that, right?"
"Yes and when you were saying no one had ever felt so good. Did you mean all of that or were you just babbling?"
"Oh, I was most assuredly babbling..."
"But that doesn't mean that I didn't mean every word."
"Oh. Then you meant to claim me? I mean, all that, 'my this and my that', does that mean that you're interested in more than just..." he waved his hand about to encompass the situation, " This? More than just a one time fling?"
"Angel, any man who didn't want to spend the rest of his life trying to find out everything there is to know about you would have to be a complete fool and my momma didn't raise no fools."
"This isn't real. I'm not this lucky!" Chris sat up suddenly.
Dusty sat up along side him and caught his face between his hands. "It's not luck, Chris, it's Fate!"
"Fate," Dusty confirmed, stopping any further protests with a kiss so full of love that Chris couldn't think how to argue with fate.