Boy on the Bike Redux

This is a sequel to my story "The Boy on the Bike," a two-parter that you can read on this site.

This is a work of fiction between consenting adults.

Boy on the Bike Redux

You should read "The Boy on the Bike" first but if you don't want to or don't have time or just want to jump right in here, let me summarize. In my mid-twenties I was in graduate school in the Midwest. The city I lived in had a nice park on the river that was very cruisy at night. One night, I met a guy who had just turned 20 at the river park. He was into public play, but I wanted to play at home, in private. The debate was settled when a good-old-fashioned Midwestern gully washer, complete with thunder and lightning, had us scrambling to my car...which led to a great night of sex at my apartment.

...The kiss continued for a minute or two longer. His tongue explored my mouth, and I guessed he could taste his cum that thinly coated the inside of my mouth, just as I could taste the remnants of my cum in his mouth.

I was rock hard. Our lips parted and we each moved our face back slightly enough to look into the other's eyes. His were baby blue and twinkling.

His left hand slowly stroked my hard-again cock, up and down, up and down, pausing here and there to cup my balls or to trace his fingers through my dense bush. My left hand traced a line from this left ear to his mouth and then lightly across his cheek. If he shaved more than once a week I'd be surprised. I traced a line down from his hairline to the tip of his unturned nose and then back again. Slowly. Softly. Sensuously. He sighed. And as he sighed a whisp of his sweet breath commingled still with my cum wafted to my nose. I breathed him in.

"Better than playing under a bridge?" I whispered. "Yes," he purred. "So much better. What was I even thinking. And what were we thinking," he asked in a whisper, "we wasted all that time—first with you pretending not to notice me and then with the two of us debating where to play." My left hand traced a line up from the bottom of his cock to his belly button and he moaned. "We ain't wasting time no more, are we," he whispered as his eyes closed and his body arched up and toward me.

I smiled. This cute boy on the bike had just quoted one of my favorite Allman Brothers songs—did he even know it?

We lay there for a bit just stroking each other. My fingers danced across his hip, his groin, the space between his pubes and his belly, his belly, his chest, his nipples, under his arm, across his arm, skipping across his skin with continuous pirouettes, ever so lightly. He did the same in return.

We were both very quiet. The sound of a soulful sax drifted out from the speakers. And time passed.

"Hey," he whispered, "is there anything you've always wanted to do but have never done?" Hmmm, I responded, lost in thought. At this point in my life, I still considered myself more on the hetero side of the scale. My experiences with men were somewhat limited and focused mostly on hand and oral gratification. In truth, I'd never fucked another guy. I don't know why we were whispering, but I whispered that admission to him.

"You're kidding," he said. "How can that be?"

"Dunno," I murmured, "just never came up." We both giggled at the lame and unintended pun.

There was a pause and then he asked softly "Do you want to fuck me?"

I thought, but only for a second, and then slowly nodded my head up and down.

By this time his hand had once again found my cock and he was stroking me up and down. With his other hand, he played with my balls and stroked my pubes. He slid down the bed until his face was even with my crotch. He leaned in and licked the head of my cock, his tongue slipping out and swabbing the oh-so-tender underside, both hands now playing with my balls in earnest. He pulled off and murmured something about getting me rock hard. I didn't think I could be harder.

My bed was nothing but a box spring and mattress—no frame—so we were pretty close to the floor. He slid down the end of the bed and then rolled me over flat on my back. He parted my legs, and his tongue licked its way up from my left foot to my cock. He went to work again on my cock. His tongue licking me and kissing me and simply sliding across my cock, balls, pubes and my thighs and all around my groin. I was gutturally groaning from deep in my diaphragm, although still quietly as if any loud sound would destroy the mood.

After minutes of this he stood up and pronounced me "ready." He reached forward and grabbed my hands, pulling me up and off the bed. He grabbed me by the hips and drew me in for another kiss. This one started with soft kisses on my cheeks, my nose, my eyes, my forehead and then he found my lips. Our mouths opened and our tongues found each other. All the while he continued to play with my cock. When I reached for his, he batted my hand away.

Breaking the kiss, he sat down on the edge of the bed. He scooted back just a few inches from the end of the bed and grabbed my pillow. He slipped the pillow under his back side and then bent his knees and rolled them up toward his chest. His hands holding his bent legs close to his body. His gorgeous and engorged cock pointed up toward his chin, leaving his winking pink hole exposed to me. "This ok," he asked. I nodded. Transfixed.

I knew what I wanted, and I was going to get there, but first I wanted something else. I fell between his legs and grabbed his cock, gently. I brought it to my mouth and started to lick the tip, saliva pouring out of my mouth and sliding down his shaft. I took him deep in my mouth, breaching my throat just slightly, and taking him down to his pubes. I pulled back. I stroked him up and down as I licked his thighs and the crease where his legs and his hips met.

My tongue traced a path to his balls. I was still beating him off with long, even stokes, up and back. I took his left ball into my mouth and sucked on it, swirling my tongue around it. I then took the other one in my mouth and licked it and lightly chewed on it.

He smelled musky and sexy, and I inhaled deeply. I pulled off to look closely at his balls and his cock and his taint and his ass, his hands still holding his legs close to his chest, giving me unfettered access. He was beautiful. His ball sack was nicely dappled and covered by light, whispy blonde hair. His taint and his asshole looked naturally bald. And clean.

I pulled his stiff cock toward me and pursed my lips, poking his cock between them, into my mouth. I pulled off his cockhead and licked his staff at the tip and then down the sides like it was a melting ice cream cone and I was trying to suck it all up. His precum was flowing and I was licking that, too. I waved his cock back and forth, hitting myself softly on the lips and cheeks.

My fingers moved down his taint and lightly touched his hole. I brought my index finger and middle finger up and bathed them in a thick goo that was mostly my saliva but had a little bit of his precum mixed in for good measure. I moved my fingers back and while continuing to bathe his cock with my tongue, I inserted my middle finger slowly, working it in and out. He was moaning and his legs where shaking, still held back by his hands. I slipped in my index finger, too, now two-finger fucking him, in and out and in and out. My mouth went up and down on his cock, sucking and slurping and eating and licking, over and over again.

His hole was now surely opened up and ready, but I slipped my head down and licked it, sticking my tongue in briefly, then I pulled back and spit on it to make sure it was really ready, and then I spit on my hands and rubbed the spit all around my cock. I moved into position and placed the tip of my cock on his hole. His body was moving, but weirdly he stayed in place. I paused and then pushed the tip of my cock into his quivering hole. He gasped. I stopped. "You ok," I whispered. "Oh, god yes," he replied. "Don't stop."

I pushed in a little further and then I began to feel like I was being sucked in. I slid in deeper and the walls of his ass clung to my cock tighter than any pussy I ever had. That amazed me. The pussy I'd had was with girls my own age, so it was young and strong, and never loose. But the sensation I was feeling now was like nothing I'd ever felt. It was like I was being sucked in and squeezed by a boa constrictor that was internally tightening around me.

I started to fuck him in earnest, pushing my hard cock in through his anal canal to the rectum and pulling out. My speed increased. My cock burying into him until my hips hit his ass, making a slapping sound. I grabbed his knees and spread his legs and pounded furiously. In and out. Slappa Slappa Slappa. I lost track of time but it felt like I continued on for hours—it was likely only minutes.

I looked up at him. His head was back, blonde hair cascading on the bed. His eyes were rolled back. He had a smile on his face. Ecstasy.

He reached between his legs and grabbed his cock, stroking himself furiously with one hand while playing with his balls with the other. I continued to slip in and out at a fast rate. He matched me with his stroking. I could feel my cum starting to boil up in my balls and told him I was about to cum. He ground back at me and continued to stroke himself fast and hard, in time with me.

I arched back and exploded into his rectum just as a big rope of cum shot from his cock and landed on his chest. I pushed in and he contracted his muscles to grasp all of the cum out of me, drawing it in nice and deep.

We were both sweating. I fell forward on top of him, my rapidly softening cock slipping out as I dropped on top of his stomach. My mouth found his nipple and I licked it, savoring the salty taste.

We lay there like that for a while. The radio softly playing. The fan blowing the air around. The rain falling outside my window. We both dozed.

I awoke and quietly scooted up to lie beside him. My head perched on my palm. I gazed at him. Eyes closed. Hair still spread out behind him on the bed. I studied his lips. They were light red, almost as if he were wearing lipstick and the bottom and top lips were naturally full, forming a little heart shape below his cute, upturned nose. The skin on his face was blemish free and smooth. I couldn't resist, so I reached up and lightly traced his cheek with the tip of my finger. He smiled without opening his eyes. I leaned in and kissed his smile.

Later we would lie in bed and talk and find out that we had a lot more in common than just a love for sex. It was, as they say in the movies, the start of a beautiful relationship.