Per Anum Ch. 09: Full Service

This was not improving the roiling pressure in my balls. Every rise and fall of Owen's body was ratcheting me up another step towards the peak, and he was still somehow accelerating. The way the warmth of his body radiated all over me, his hot breath panting in my ear as he fucked himself on me, the slick heat of his ass gripping me even as he slid up and down...yeah, no. No way was I going to last.

"Owen," I gasped. "I'm close." I'd intended it as a warning, so that he could decide if he wanted my load inside him or what...but he apparently took it as a challenge, because his ass squeezed me tighter than ever as he started pounding his ass onto my cock even harder. Letting go of his ass with one hand, I slipped it into the slick oven the narrow space between us had become, and wrapped it around his cock. He groaned, head lolling back, those lovely green eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he fucked my hand while he fucked himself.

It was too much. That sound, that singular tableau of a man surrendering to ecstasy, pushed me over the edge. I could only manage a wordless, desperate sound as my orgasm slammed into me. I felt my balls contract, my cock erupting into Owen's ass, but it was a distant, inconsequential thing; my attention was all but consumed with the bliss overrunning my brain.

Owen didn't stop. Maybe he couldn't stop. Owen was still riding me with furious intensity, slamming himself onto my cock over and over even as I sprayed my load inside him. Every squeeze of his ass seemed to wring another tingling wave of pleasure out of me, every desperate thrust of his cock into the tunnel of my hand and chest kept me aloft for another second.

Finally, when the sensations were getting too intense to be borne, when my body was a hairsbreadth from giving out beneath him, Owen went rigid. With a deep, guttural sound from the back of his throat, his body shuddered as he impaled himself almost painfully on my oversensitive cock one last time. I felt something warm and sticky strike the underside of my chin, and more splatter across my chest and run over my fingers. He'd frozen in place, locked in his moment of bliss, but I kept moving for him, squeezing and stroking him to drag out his climax as he'd done to me.

Eventually, he toppled off me, and we wound up sort of halfway draped over the (now very sticky) padded bench. We sprawled for a moment, collecting ourselves and getting our breathing under control. My eyelids were actually flickering, tottering on the edge of a doze despite the brawny stranger half atop me, when something warm and wet and flexible started wandering over my skin. Forcing my eyes open, I was rewarded with the sight of Owen running his tongue methodically down my body, licking up his load from the nooks and crannies it had seeped into. Tingling little shivers went through me, raising goosebumps as he worked his way lower and lower, tongue tracing the ridges of my abs and the curve of my hip to collect every drop he could find.

I shuddered when he ran his tongue up the length of my half-deflated, hyper-sensitized cock, collecting the smeared remains of my load once he was done with his own. Owen's mouth found its way down over my balls, dragging a gasp out of me, and then went lower still. His lips feathered across my perineum, making me squirm, and to my surprise he lifted my legs and set to work on my hole, just as I'd done to him earlier. Was he aiming to go another round? Already?

"Are you--mmm, that's good--are you sure you should be staying even longer? I don't want you to get in...trouble...fuuuuck!" I found it hard to speak, my words trailing into a groan as Owen's tongue really got going on my hole. I'm a sucker for rimming, and he had me moaning and squirming almost immediately.

"Nah, it's fine," he grunted, hardly taking his mouth off me far enough to be understood. "I do need to get the truck back, but I feel a flat tire coming on." His tongue dove into my hole again, and I lost the capacity to argue. Seizing my hips, he rolled me onto my stomach, draped over the bench. This provided him with even better access, and he took advantage, spreading my cheeks with his hands so his mouth could work on my ass.

When the fingertip slid inside me, I knew where this was headed. When that finger started playing with my prostate, sending jolts up my spine to bounce around my brain, I decided I was fine with it. My cock hardened back up in short order, encouraged by his free hand and occasional visits from his mouth wandering down from my hole to my balls, along my shaft, and back up. Glancing beneath the bench I was sprawled across, he was stiff as a board as well.

I groaned as a second finger joined the the first. Owen mostly withdrew his mouth, unfortunately, but the way his fingers were moving inside me, stretching me open, kept me pretty well distracted. Once he opened me up enough to get his tongue back into me alongside his fingers, things really got going. I could only clasp the bench for dear life--and grind my ass back against his mouth--as tongue and fingers together did wonderful things inside me.

The third finger entering me dragged a desperate, hungry noise from my throat that made Owen chuckle. Ignoring my semi-articulate entreaties, he took his time, tongue and lips and fingers and even teeth all conspiring to have me climbing the walls--at least I would have been, if I'd had any motor control of my legs. Mostly I just sort of writhed helplessly against his mouth.

At long last, he took me by the waist and lifted me to my feet. I could feel the heat of his body right up behind me, though only his hands were touching me. I grabbed a protruding bar on the FitPro--maybe it was for pull-ups or something, I really hadn't been paying attention to the manual--and raised one foot onto the bench to spread my ass for him. Owen moved right in, the head of his heavy cock sliding against my hole for one tantalizing moment before he started pushing in. We both groaned as he breached the entrance, my ass opening right up for him after all the preparation.

I'd expected the same sort of frenetic passion he'd displayed in the first go-round, but apparently he'd gotten it all out of his system. Instead, Owen took his time, ever so slowly working his way inside me. He'd push in a bit, pause, pull back, push in a hair deeper, pause, over and over with maddening slowness. Several times he pulled almost all the way out so he could add more saliva. When he finally hit bottom, buried full length inside me, he just...stopped. Owen held us poised on the brink for an unbearably long moment before he moved again, thrusting slowly in and out. Still, there was no furious energy, no desperation to his motion as there had been before; his thrusts were relentlessly steady and smooth.

He seemed to know the right angle to aim for, because every thrust hit just the right spot inside me, sending stars bouncing around behind my eyes. Owen's breath was a warm bellows against the side of my neck, his furnace-hot body clasped tightly to my back. One of his hands was on my shoulder, the other on my hip. I choked out a gasp as it slithered down to wrap around my much-neglected cock. His thumb started playing with the precum beading in the slit, smearing it over the head to ease the way as he began to languidly stroke me, his hand moving in perfect time with his thrusts.

Both fresh off an orgasm, neither of us was in a hurry, and Owen made every second drag out into what felt like an hour. No way was one flat tire going to account for how long we spent like that, him plastered to my back, his hands working my body as his cock endlessly pummeled that one perfect spot. Gradually, Owen picked up the pace, his hand and his hips moving just a little faster with each stroke. The slap of skin against skin, quiet at first, steadily built until it filled the room, broken only by the occasional cry of ecstasy one of us wrenched out of the other. My nose was filled with sweat and sex and Owen's aftershave, all tangled together in my brain with the heat of his skin and the stretch inside me.

I was so caught up in it that it took me a second to understand what was happening when Owen's hands shifted down beneath my ass to grip my thighs. Arms bulging, he lifted me clean off my feet and held me in the air as he thrust up into me. Panting heavily, I could only hold onto the bar for dear life, the muscles in my arms quivering as I helped support my weight. I let my head loll back, my eyes half-shut. My whole body was like a single taut wire, every thrust from Owen a strum that had me vibrating head to toe.

I'm in good shape, and Owen was clearly very strong, but nobody can hold a grown man up forever, even splitting the weight. After a while--much longer than I'd expected to stay up there--he lowered me to the floor, his cock pounding away the whole time. We wound up kneeling on the padded mats I'd laid out on the floor, my back arched and Owen pressed up behind me, his hips never stopping. His arms slid around me again, one hand wandering, exploring, while the other wrapped once more around my straining erection.

"I can't," he gasped in my ear. "I'm gonna--!" His relentless, steady thrusting finally shuddered to a stop as he plunged in to the hilt and groaned his release. His body quivered, once, twice, again, each coinciding with a pulse of his cock deep inside me and a squeeze of his hand around my own. A moment later, he started thrusting again, groaning into my neck with each motion. Every shuddering thrust was accompanied by a sliding, twisting stroke of my cock, smearing the precum all but pouring out of me all over the shaft as he dragged me over the edge after him.

My orgasm struck all at once, overwhelming my brain as my second load splattered the floor and ran over Owen's fingers. Neither his hand nor his hips stopped moving until I was well and truly wrung dry, my body oversensitized to the point of pins and needles flowing in waves from everywhere he touched...which was everywhere. I peeled myself away from him, half concerned he'd try for a third round and half wanting him to, despite our obvious and mutual exhaustion.

We just sprawled there on the floor in front of the FitPro for a few minutes, getting our breathing back under control. Eventually, when I was mostly sure my mouth was capable of forming intelligible phonemes, I turned to look at him.

"Are you always this committed to customer satisfaction?"

Without opening his eyes, Owen gave me a sardonic little salute, touching two fingers to his brow. They still had my semen on them. "All part of the service."

"Note to self," I muttered, heaving myself to my feet and offering a hand to him. "Add an extra star to the online review."