We were drifting in the euphoria of sex in a new and quite satisfactory relationship. Neither of us needed anything more. But the cloud of Trey’s future—as his Daddy’s second hand and ultimately as CEO of the business remained on the horizon. And his Momma was getting very anxious about his “prospects”—repeatedly asking him to come home to attend some event—always featuring young Southern available debs. And, in every call, she quizzed him about his “social life.” He told me repeatedly that he hadn’t lied—he couldn’t lie to his Momma—but he hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with information either. She was expressing greater and greater concern about his “future.”
Was the New York trip the time to come clean? Probably not, but how then were we going to handle the visit? In fact, we hadn’t talked about the future at all.
“Before those turning wheels spoil your concentration on the important things of life, I want you to fuck me, Flip. He had sensed my worry. And as usual he was defusing it. He raised his legs and pulled them wide, presenting the pink-rimmed Southern rosebud that I had plundered so often. I moved in, added a little lube, and pushed. I slid inside feeling the hardness of his love-nut and the soft caress of his passage as I plunged. He was warm, and when I looked up, I saw the color in his face, almost matching the rosy curls that spilled over into his eyes. I would never tire of this sight. He was beautiful. And, for now at least, he was mine, only mine.
I moved slowly, thrusting and withdrawing, hardening and aiming my pole as I did. His calves dropped from my shoulders and surrounded my waist, pulling me deeper inside. Our chests met. Then our lips. I felt the orgasm approaching. So I stiffened my thighs and arms, moving to a push up position so we had a hard connection at the point of maximum sexual contact. I felt his orgasm rising from deep in his gut. It was like an ocean wave, inevitable, enlarging as it reached shore, and overflowing with foam and power. The spasm moved up through him, drew up his balls, lengthened his shaft, swelled his bulb. Until finally it exploded the creamy foam between our chests and flowed down the cuts in his deep six pac. That tipped me over, and for the third time that day, I deposited my essence inside.
I dropped at first on his chest, but after taking his lips, I fell back to my pillow.
“We’ll work something out, Trey. Let’s ask Brent’s advice.” Then I pulled him in to a clinch, and we both dozed, knowing we had no work that evening. Maybe we had the stuff for one more round later.
TBC BD