The Boss of Me

Russ slowed the pace and then nestled the swollen head of his cock against the back of my tongue. He pulled out slowly, scraping the underside of his glans along the pebbles of my taste buds; instantly there was bitterness, salt... I knew where we were, and what was next.

"May I?" I panted. He nodded, and my hands dropped to my waist, fumbling to unbutton my jeans. I tugged them and my white briefs down to where my knees met the floor, and my cock sprang free. It was nothing like Russ's; an arrow-straight 6 inches, compared to his 9- or 10-inch hose, which flared out as it neared his cock head, and had a slight curve downward.

The first few strokes on my cock sent a wave of electricity through me, and I knew that we were entering the final act.

"Look at me," he said. I frenetically pumped my cock; he slowly stroked his near the head, "Just keeping the pilot light lit," as he put it. It was no more than 30 seconds when the volcano rumbled at the base of my spine; Russ knew when it happened by the look on my face. He put a strong hand under my left armpit and pulled me forward and to my feet.

"Oooooowww ohhhh gaaa...." I groaned as the first creamy white spurt of my cum shot out, hitting him square in the densest patch of black hair between his nipples. As the strand finished near his belly button, the second gob erupted, as dense but not quite as far. The next several I steered to his cock and balls.

When I regained my senses, I was leaning forward, my left hand on his chest and my cock still pulsing in my right.

Russ grabbed me by the left elbow and pulled me into his body, slipping the hand up to the back of my neck as I fell into him. His tongue was in my mouth, on my tongue, over my teeth, up the roof of my mouth and as far in as it could go. His other hand continued stroking his cock. Abruptly, he pulled back.

"OK, it's time," he rasped. His hand still on my neck, he steered my head to his chest, sodden with my cooling cum. I sucked and licked in long sweeps, paying attention to his nipples. He gripped my right hand with his left, and put my fingers into his mouth. He sucked and swirled his tongue around them until they were drenched, then he shoved my hand under his balls and into the sweaty crack of his ass.

I knew what to do from there, swirling the tips of my middle and forefinger over his puckered asshole.

"Yeah," he grunted, as his hips pushed forward. He moved my head down to the mess I'd left all over his cock, and I greedily sucked and slurped as much of it as I could back into my mouth, lubing my throat. He raised his hips until his plum was against my epiglottis... he rocked once, rocked twice and I relaxed as much as I could for the third and final push.

"Gloooork! Gahhhh gaaahhhh gaaahhhh" I said in wet couplets; his ass was completely off the chair, his muscular thighs straining to pound as much of his cock into me as he could. As my nose finally made it deep into his pubic mound, I finally quit teasing his pucker and pushed my middle finger into his ass until I hit the walnut texture of his prostate. Also something he'd taught me, and pretty early in my summer coursework.

Russ wasn't a loud cummer; he made a sound like a strongman deadlifting 500 pounds when he lost his nut. And that strained "Mmmmmmmmmmph" was now building as he mashed my head down with one last thrust.

My finger was gripped in spasms as his entire pelvic floor vibrated, and the stream of jism coursed up his cum chute against my tongue. The flared end of his cock pulsed deep within me, and involuntarily my throat triggered a quick series of rnythmic swallows. He moaned a signal of surrender as my finger slid out of his sensitive anus.

Finally his ass relaxed back onto the chair, which was covered in his sweat and my saliva and cum. As he did, his softening hose slipped inch by inch out of my mouth, and flopped back down against his thigh. The same place I first saw it in June. The same place I found it 30 minutes ago. I'm guessing the same place Katelyn got to find it earlier that morning.

Russ put his hand on my shoulder, and pushed me back onto my haunches. I just sat there, collecting myself. He reached over to the top of the filing cabinet, and grabbed his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. After a first deep drag, he exhaled and leaned forward,

"Ready to talk?"