Lower Than the Heart

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sr71plt
sr71plt
3,015 Followers

"I wouldn't put that past him," Trent said.

"Speaking of fucking. Ever been taken in a bathtub?" Amos had raised a hand to the rim of the tub.

"I was dreaming about that just this morning," Trent answered, his eyes lighting up with expectation.

"You got any more cum in you?"

"Maybe in a little while."

"Do you want to wait for it."

"Of course.

* * * *

"This is where we left off. Is this where you're going to toss in the saltpeter?"

Gerhardt Von Hultz and Trent were draped somewhat askew on the sofa in Gerhardt's Southwest Washington, D.C., townhouse, Gerhardt more or less on top of Trent, whose back was propped on a sofa arm. His left leg was dangling down toward the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, raised on Gerhardt's thigh; his right thigh was rising up the back of the sofa, pinned there by Gerhardt's body; his right calf was lying on top of the sofa back; and his two hands were cupping Gerhardt's neck. Trent's shirt was open, exposing his torso, and a nipple was hidden under Gerhardt's lips—but just for the moment; Gerhardt was also working Trent's mouth with those lips. Trent's trousers and briefs were in a jumble on the floor next to the sofa, and his loafers were neatly arranged side by side under the coffee table. He had white socklets on his feet.

Gerhardt had already given him a hand job and sucked him to an ejaculation.

The older, trim Gerhardt, naked from the waist down and his shirt unbuttoned, was on his knees on the sofa cushion, turned toward the side that Trent was laying back on. His right knee was shoved under Trent's left leg, spreading and raising the leg. It had caused Trent's buttocks to roll up, giving access down the full length of Trent's perineum and well past the young man's puckered hole. Gerhardt's left hand was cupping the back of Trent's head and his right arm was stiffened, the heel of the hand buried in the sofa arm under Trent's left armpit.

Gerhardt was using what leverage he could to move his pelvis up and down, the purpose being to move his long, sheathed, hard, cock vertically along Trent's perineum and pushing under the young man's ball sack, with the ultimate goal of getting that cock inside Trent's hole, which already was leaking lubricant.

The older man moved his right hand down to his cock and he was rubbing the head of it across and around Trent's ass opening. Both men knew that Trent's hole was opening up nicely, that it wanted the cock. Gerhardt was groaning; Trent was moaning.

To the normal viewer it would seem that Gerhardt would not have to be asking the "can I fuck you?" question at this point, except that these two had been in this identical position eleven days earlier, on Valentine's Day, and this was the precise moment that Trent had cold cocked the older man and departed for the beach.

But unlike the earlier tableau, this time Trent smiled, reached down with a hand and took Gerhardt's cock in it, pushing Gerhardt's hand away. He positioned the sheathed bulb of the cock so that it pressed at the hole. His channel opened over the bulb, which pressed inside, as Trent arched his back and moaned and Gerhardt let out a long sigh.

Gerhardt sucked in air as Trent's ass muscles sucked in two inches of the cock. Trent turned his head to the side and moaned a low, "Yes. Oh, yes, fuck me, daddy. Be good to me."

"Truthfully? You'll accept me now?"

"Yes, yes. Please. All of it inside me."

The older man slid in two more inches and pressed his forehead into Trent's temple. "Oh, sweet baby. Thank you, thank you. Daddy's going to be so good to you. I've wanted you so long."

Another inch and Trent arched his back and cried out to the ceiling, "More, more. Give me more. Take me. Pound me. Oh, fuck me, Gerhardt." His hands formed claws and scrambled their way to Gerhardt's bare buttocks and pulled the older man closer into his pelvis, pulling the cock deeper by two inches.

Gerhardt gave him two thrusts, and Trent cried out.

"Not bad for an old man, eh?" Gerhardt exclaimed. "Got more to give you too."

"Yessss," Trent hissed. "Give it all to me. Pump me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

Gerhardt had started the rhythm of the fuck, with Trent calling out the cadences with his "fuck me's." The cock was sinking in another fraction of an inch with each thrust. At nearly eight inches it would bottom out. It wasn't thick, but it was very long. And it was very effective. Trent started to buck under Gerhardt and to groan and grunt and whimper for the fuck. He wanted Gerhardt to know that the age difference meant nothing, and that the specter of health problems meant nothing, as long as Gerhardt could hold the hard inches and could stroke Trent as expertly as he now was doing.

Gerhardt was bursting with pride and happiness that this luscious young man—who, he was finding, had channel muscles that made love to a man's cock—was, at last letting him fuck him.

Trent came again with an "Oh, God, Gerhardt!" shortly before the older man came too. The use of the condom hid that his flow was mere drops. That didn't matter to this young man. It was the size of the cock, how hard Gerhardt could keep it, and what he could do with it.

"That was close," Trent murmured. "The next time we have to try to cum together."

"The next time? Oh. sweet jezuz, a next time," Gerhardt said, in wonder.

They stopped fucking, but they stayed more or less in position, their panting coming under control, slowly cooling down.

"You'll never know how much this meant to me, Trent," Gerhardt whispered when he had gotten his breath under control. "I have wanted you so long, and you are such a sweet fuck."

"No, Gerhardt. I should be the one thanking you. God, that's a long cock. And you are so good with it. I've been stupid about this for too long."

"So you'll let me in again . . . someday?"

"Yes, Gerhardt. I'll let you fuck me every day."

Tears came to the older man's eyes and he dipped his face for a long, passionate kiss.

When they came out of the kiss, Trent turned his eyes toward the coffee table. "They're still there, the Valentine's Day presents," he whispered. And indeed, the roses and the box of candy and the big, red greetings card Gerhardt had tried to give him on Valentine's Day were all still there.

"Those aren't the same roses. I've changed them twice. I was hoping you'd come back for them—and for me."

Trent had to turn his head to the side now. He didn't want Gerhardt to see the tears in his eyes. He had been so cruel to the man before. He would have to try to make it up to him.

"Perhaps you'll take them away with you tonight," Gerhardt said. "As some sort of seal maybe. I don't know what this is that we're going to have. But these, at least, state my interest. I know I'm much older, and there's the cancer scare, and I wouldn't want you to commit more than . . ."

"Shush," Trent said, putting a finger to Gerhardt's lips. "Rather than taking them with me, why don't we leave them here and I'll come to them. Any chance of me going upstairs to bed with you?"

"Yes, of course, whenever you—"

"Like right now? Can I sleep tonight, here, with your cock inside me?"

"Oh, my dear baby," Gerhardt said in a shaky voice.

They were in the center of Gerhardt's king-size bed, Trent on his back, his legs spread, his knees bent and leveraging off the soles of his feet. His buttocks were elevated on Gerhardt's thighs, and the older man was kneeling between Trent's spread legs. His hands were on Trent's waist. Gerhardt was doing all of the work, because he said he wanted to. Trent was just laying there, arms spread wide, enjoying the long strokes of Gerhardt's cock inside him as the stage director moved his buttocks way back to pull the bulb of his hard cock back almost to Trent's entrance and then the glide forward to bury it as far as possible up Trent's channel.

"Just one thing, daddy," Trent murmured. "One thing I need for you to promise me if I'm going to stay here with you."

"What's that, baby? Anything you want, baby."

"Promise me that if I'm wiped out by a bus tomorrow, you'll have another man in this bed, doing this to him, on the next night."

Gerhardt laughed, but it had a sobbish sort of edge to it. "Anything you want, baby."

sr71plt
sr71plt
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11 Comments
BobronnyBobronny4 months ago

That was something else. Bravo.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 11 years ago
Gorgeous

This is wonderful. Absolutely amazing. I'm a strait woman (just here for the contest) but you snared me. Loved the conversations and the incredible characters. You craft a compelling tale sir. Thanks for the stunning read.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 11 years ago
TOTAL PLEASER OF A STORY

Loved the emotional angles and the hot sex. I have always enjoyed your stories, but I have to say that I think you have raised the bar in recent months. I'm not a writer, so not sure what's changing, but I sure like it. Great job.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 11 years ago
Casey 1988

I liked the story all but the part with Amos. Really done well with good flow to it.

geemeedeegeemeedeeabout 11 years ago

Fascinated by that Flying Dutchman-sounding position. I'd never try it -- I'm not limber and would probably get the cramp to end all cramps -- but it sounded cool. :0) This made me think of Stephen King stories set in small towns, where there's a battle for the protagonist's soul. But the weapon used was sex, not horror. And I have to wonder: what kind of history do the sheriff and Buster have? I like that it's left to my (dirty) imagination.

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