Men on the Moon

"Don't be long," he smiled. "I have something for you." I kissed him as I brushed by to go to the corridor and through the dorm to the upstairs bath. I took off my pants and socks and threw them out the open door. I looked in the medicine cabinet and found the little jar of Vaseline we used for our lips when they got chapped in the winter. I opened it, and took two fingers and scooped a little out. Then I spread my legs and reached down next to my erect cock and deposited it along the crack of my ass, paying special attention to my rosebud, poking in one finger and then two so the jelly was inside me.

Then I rinsed my hand, though the jelly did not come off, and I took some toilet paper and scrubbed it off.

When I returned to the front bedroom, Alexander was by the window, looking out into the full darkness. The stars were coming out.

He turned and the magic was happening. His elegant dark cock was becoming full. I will never get over the excitement of watching a cock harden! I marveled at him, fully naked. How all his color seemed concentrated there in that marvelous spear of flesh. How I wanted it buried in me!

It hung down, tumescent, rising as I watched, until it came fully to attention, the helmet protruding from the little cuff of his foreskin, pointing at me, the object of it's desire.

God, it was sexy! I fell to my knees before him and pressed my lips around the proud shaft, tonguing his foreskin, tasting the first jewels of his pre-cum, slavering on him with my eagerness to serve him. He reached down and brought me to my feet, and our dicks touched, rubbed against each other. He looked down, and gripped them both together in a tender hand.

I felt I was going to melt, and my mouth sought his, my tongue reaching for his, needing him desperately. He kissed me deeply, and then released our cocks, and gently pushed my chest, backing me up until my calves were against the side of the bed. I sat down on it, and then reclined, turning sideways so that I did not miss the intensity of his gaze and his need. His erection seemed impossibly long.

He laid down beside me, on top of the comforter, and gazed deep into me.

"Now I am going to make you mine, Bob. Are you ready?"

My voice quivered with urgency. "I have never wanted anything more, lover. Take me. Please, God, take me. Make me yours. Make me your boy."

He turned and raised himself on his forearms, placing them on either side of me, and pressed a knee between my legs. I spread them for him, and he placed himself between my legs, on his knees. I raised my legs to expose my ass and cock to him. He reached down and grasped his lance, and leaning down, drew the tip the length of the crack of my ass. He felt the slickness of the jelly, and he smiled in the glow of the lamp.

"Good," he said. "Nice and moist." I moaned in anticipation. I hoped it would not hurt. He was so long, and yet I needed it so much. The tip of his cock was poised at my asshole. He pushed, experimentally, and I groaned. He pushed harder, and he gained purchase. I gasped. He brought his hand up and caressed the side of my face. "This may hurt at first, but just relax. I'll be gentle."

"Fuck me, Alexander. Just please fuck me. Make me whole."

He pressed against me, inexorable this time, the hardness of him in that softness, I felt the tip penetrate the ring of muscle. He withdrew minutely, and then the pressure began again. I groaned at the violation of my virgin ass, and pressed back against him, the pain welcome, validating the importance of this submission to his hard cock.

He pressed again, and withdrew again, but with each small stroke gained depth within me. Presently, a warmth began to glow in my guts and the jelly had coated everything and I realized that suddenly he was completely within me, and I could feel his soft scrotum and the wiry hair against the smooth flesh of my ass. He was filling me completely, the full length of his proud cock buried to its full length.

He rested there and kissed me deep, filling my throat with his tongue as fully as he was filling my guts with his cock.

I clutched him to me, my arms around him. My legs waved helplessly in the air. He began to fuck me then, deep full strokes that churned my insides, rubbing something within me that drove me mad with desire. This was the most natural thing in the world, a real cock fucking me, a black cock splitting me, skewering me on his manhood, a real man, fucking me in and out.

I was transported somewhere else. I heard someone moaning "Fuck me, fuck me, God oh Jesus fuck me..." and it must have been me, though I did not consciously speak.

He tempo increased and I sensed the semen was rising from his hot balls, coursing upward through the channels of his dick, rising and burning, and I looked up at him, his eyes now clenched closed in the throes of his passion, his passion for me, the depository of his sperm, millions of them flooding into my guts, making me his.

He grunted and groaned and I clutched him desperately, arcing my back to get him as deep within me as I could, crying out for his seed. I shivered uncontrollably and he jetted in me and I swear I could feel the intensity of his blasts right to the pit of my stomach.

His rhythm changed once he had shot himself within me, but he kept stroking, his seed now lubricating everything, and I could feel him leaking out around the now softening proud lance in my ass. Then he stopped and he rested against me, kissing my cheek. "Now that is a fuck. Man, you are one hot bitch."

"That's me," I said breathlessly. "I'm your bitch, Alexander."

My erection was pressed between us, and when he said that word I came in a vast soft wave of contentment and fulfillment. Eventually he softened and slid out of me. We turned side to side and breathed each other's mouths and talked of everything and nothing, sweetness. My semen dried on our smooth skins and his seeped from my asshole.

Later that night I discovered what the taste of semen and Vaseline and shit was, and how I could get him hard again, and how it felt to be roughly fucked from behind, my hips raised on a pillow, my dick trapped by softness as he ravished me with hard, firm strokes, striking my soft ass with a firm elegant hand, and me whimpering in pain and pleasure.

Over the next two days we did not venture far from the bed, and we trashed the comforter and the sheets and I did not care. Monday, we decided we might want to get something to eat that did not come from a can or a hard cock, and I was sore and sated.

We were naked in the kitchen, contemplating the trip back to town, and work at the store the next day. It seemed a lifetime away. He got a faraway look in his lovely eyes.

"I have decided to go to Howard University,' he said. "I need to get out of Illinois."

I was stunned at the suddenness. "You have known this for a while, haven't you?" I said. I could feel tears come to my eyes. "After what we have done how could you leave me?"

"I'm not leaving you," he said, "Not now, anyway. It is just something I have to do. A black thing, you wouldn't understand." I stood silent, gazing into his eyes with a sense of loss. "There are other hard dicks out there," he said with a smile. "And besides, I will be back. In the meantime, there is a black thing that you do seem to understand pretty well, you sweet bitch."

He pushed me forward over the butcher-block table in the middle of the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil and drizzled it down the crack of my ass. Then he took me there and there, with vigor, and having fucked so much, he took a good long time doing it. I grunted and moaned and was taken to another place altogether.

We drove back to town, and my guts ached from the thrusting of his cock and the feeling of loss. But it was OK, I suppose. I would either wait for him, or possibly something else would come up. He had taught me a lot of lessons with those impossible hazel eyes, and I knew that for the rest of my life I would associate the beautiful richness of his caramel skin with lust and the taste of semen.

I took him to the bus station downtown where he was going to catch the inter-city down to Washington, DC. He had a couple suitcases and a determined look. I went down on him in the parking lot, in the right seat of my little VW, just like the first time I sucked a man's cock, and he adjusted his clothing when he was done shooting his seed down my gullet. He got on the bus when it was time, and the Greyhound pulled out of the parking lot in a cloud of black exhaust smoke.

I saw him wave.

He did not come back. I heard he got into the Black Power thing, and it was time, and a white boyfriend would have interfered with his authenticity. But at the time I held a pretty strong torch, swearing I would never forget him. That was completely true. I never will. But there was a guy that I met in the dorm a month later at IU that helped me get over the pain. Or better phrased, find a whole new kind.

I'll tell you about him sometime. He was a dreamboat.