The Dairy State Boy, The Final

But, I couldn't resist what he was doing to me. It was otherworldly. He was so good at it all, I felt pliant, like wet clay in the hands of Donatello.

He backed me to the bed, gently pushing me onto it.

"Raise your hips," he said, pulling off my shorts when I did and then repositioning me fully onto the bed. Like a cat, he was then over me, his knees beside my hips, his hands above my shoulders, his mouth finding mine and delivering yet another devastating kiss, which he ended with a hard suck of my tongue and then a small nip of both my tongue and my lips.

He started down my body, biting my shoulder so hard that I sucked air between my teeth.

"Raise your arms over your head," he directed. When I did, he buried his face in my armpits, first the right and then the left, his tongue navigating both hollows the way it had navigated my mouth.

"Mmmmm," he breathed as he moved back to my lips. "Taste your smell on me." I did. It was musky.

When he ended the kiss, he dragged the back of his tongue down my chin and neck, over my Adam's apple, and down my sternum. He then swiped the front of his tongue to my right nipple. When he got there, he again bit down, hard. I again sucked air through my teeth.

He then swiped the front of his tongue to my left nipple. When he got there, he again bit down, hard. I again sucked air through my teeth.

I was writhing under him. I was so hard that I was raising my hips to him, searching for contact between my erection and any part of his body that I could find.

He nipped at my abdomen. I thrust my erection into his chin. I wanted to be in his mouth. I wanted him to fellate me more than I had ever wanted anything. I used my hands on his head to try to force him onto my erection. He resisted, moving back up my body, kissing my lips quickly before raising up so we were looking into each other's eyes. His were glistening.

"I'm not going to suck you," he said. "I don't suck guys. I fuck them, I don't suck them."

"Oh my God," I thought. I hadn't been fucked in years.

He moved his mouth back to mine and repositioned himself so that his weight was to my right, not on me. He lowered his mouth to mine and delivered yet another devastating kiss.

"I want you to come while I'm kissing you," he whispered, his right hand moving back to my erection and starting to work it up and down. I was so hard, I knew I was not going to last long.

Simultaneously, his hand and his mouth were working magic, his hand working my erection and his tongue working my tongue.

"Oh God, I'm close," I breathed into his mouth.

"Come for me, Michaels, come for me," he breathed back.

I did as he suggested, raising my hips off the bed, straightening my legs, and dropping one of the largest loads I could recall dropping. As I did, he sucked my tongue as hard as he could and squeezed my erection tight, both of which sent shockwaves ricocheting to my core, back out, and then back in again. I finally shivered from head to toe, shaking like a wet dog.

"That's quite a load," he said, tracing his finger through what had hit my chest and then through what had hit my stomach.

"It's been awhile," I said.

"I like it. I'm going to play in it for awhile."

As he did, he started asking me questions.

"How old are you, Michaels?"

"50. You?"

"30. Since yesterday."

"Happy belated birthday."

"Thank you."

"What's your story, Michaels. Are you married?"

"I was. I'm a widower," I lied. It felt like it was too much to explain the Ten Year Rule, so I chose the easier path of death.

"You're young to be a widower. What happened?"

I made up a cancer story. I felt bad, but it must have been a good one.

"Fuck," he said. "That's rough. I've never been to a funeral. I've never lost anyone."

"It sucks."

"I bet."

"But you don't," I joked, trying to lighten the mood I had stupidly darkened.

"I don't."

"What about you? Are you married?"

He answered by holding up his ring. "Dead give away," he said as he did.

"Man or woman?"

"Woman. Almost five years."

"Does she know, about you, about this, I mean...." I was babbling.

"Sure. I mean, we're on the same page. We got married because we wanted to be married, but we don't buy all the marriage bullshit. We're not monogamous. Never have been. Never will be. Don't even understand the concept, to be totally honest with you. It literally makes no sense to us. Ninety percent of all mammals agree."

"Does she know you're not monogamous sometimes with men?"

"Sure. We're both like 80/20 straight. Every once in awhile, she gets with a chick. Every once in awhile, I get with a guy. It's all cool."

I marveled at how differently different people viewed things. David and I had been totally monogamous. To my knowledge, neither of us had ever cheated on the other.

"Am I you first customer?"

He smiled a "come on" smile. I mean, he was so fucking hot, there was literally no way that men and woman hadn't thrown all of themselves at him.

"Why don't you suck guys?"

"I don't like it. I tried it once. It wasn't for me."

"But you fuck guys?"

"I do. I like it. I tried it once. It was for me."

"Are you going to fuck me?"

"Yes, when I'm done playing in your cum," he said, moving clumps of it around. "It's so viscous and slippery."

I grabbed his arm. I wanted him, no I needed him, inside of me.

He lowered his mouth to mine, again kissing me like kissing was the only thing that mattered.

"Someone's impatient," he breathed.

"Yes, I am," I whispered. "But, I have a little work to do first. I'll be right back."

With that, I crawled out of the bed and sort of half staggered to the bathroom, my legs still weak from the power of the orgasm he had wrought. In the bathroom, I readied myself as good as I could. Before exiting, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like I felt, I bit overwhelmed. I also was going to be bruised some of the places he had bitten me.

When I returned to the bedroom, Ray was undressed and sprawled in the middle of the bed. I was disappointed. I had wanted to unwrap him.

I expected them, but the tattoos still jarred me. They were intricate and colorful. "They must have hurt," I thought to myself.

"Yay or nay?" he asked. When I only raised an eyebrow in response, he added, "The tattoos. Some people hate them. Some people love them. Where do you fall?"

The body they covered was beautiful. He had long, sinewy muscles. He had no body fat. He was hairy in the right places -- under his arms, between his legs -- but not in the wrong places.

He was thick, even when soft, as he was at this point. His head was a bell. His scrotum was full.

My mouth watered as I took him in.

"Normally, I think they'd turn me off. Today, they're turning me on. Somehow, on you, they just fit."

I moved to the bed. I wanted to inspect them more closely.

I ran my hand over them. It was as if they had softened his skin.

"They're very elaborate," I said, my hand on his chest and then his stomach. "It doesn't matter whether I like them. It only matters whether you like them."

"But you like them."

"I do. A lot. It must have taken forever. It must have killed."

"I have no idea how long. I've been adding for a decade. Some of them didn't hurt at all. Others -- especially on the sensitive parts -- hurt a lot."

"I bet these hurt," I said, raising his arm and tonguing the inside of his bicep.

"And these," I added, moving to the length of his side.

Repeating the same two words, I worked through him, from his side to his abdomen, then down to his calf and up to his inner thigh.

While I worked, Ray breathed heavily and hardened. When I was finished with his inner thigh, I took one testicle and then the other in my mouth. As I did, I made eye contact with him. He was watching intently.

"Jasper, meet Michaels. Michaels, meet Jasper."

"Jasper?" I asked, taking his six thick inches into my hand for the first time.

"I don't know," he said. "He looked like a 'Jasper'."

"Hi Jasper," I said, guiding him into my mouth, tasting a man for the first time in a long time, the silky glans, the throbbing flesh.

I had loved giving head since that first time, in college. I had taken to it, like a duck takes to water. I was home with a dick in my mouth.

With David, I had done it almost daily, regularly putting his morning wood to use. "You're a glutton," David would say. I was. I loved blowing him. He was a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

He'd call out the one he wanted. Fast and Furious, when he just wanted to get off. Low and Slow, when he wanted to linger. Regular, when he wanted a little more than the former and little less than the latter. The Treatment, when he wanted me to make love to his erection.

Ray was getting The Treatment, as much for my enjoyment as his. "God, you're good at that," he said, as I took him all in over and over and worked him with my mouth and my throat, my right hand flat on his stomach, my left holding his hefty sack.

I pulled to the tip, only his glans in my mouth, my tongue circling it furiously and then attacking the slit. Our eyes were locked. His eyebrows were raised.

I wanted him to fill my mouth, even if it meant I wouldn't get what I had prepared myself for.

I went all the back down. Again and again. I could feel him closing in. He spasmed in my mouth. He squirmed under me.

"I'm so close," he hissed, grabbing my head and adding a slight hip movement up to my downstroke.

I wanted to edge him, but I couldn't. I was too excited. I used my hand and mouth together. I worked him hard. I was in a haze.

I half-heard "oh fuck, oh fuck, here it comes, here it comes."

He arched up off the bed as the first shot exploded into my mouth. I gulped shot after shot and kept sucking, not stopping until he stilled me with his hands.

"You have to stop," he said. "It's too much," he insisted. "Too too much," he added, trailing off.

I slowly pulled my mouth from him, cleansing him as I did.

"Wow," he said, rubbing his hands over his face as I sat between his legs. "That was incredible. I don't usually like head. But, that was sublime."

"You don't usually like head?"

"No. It's a distraction from what I really want, which is ass."

"I love giving head."

"It shows. Your skills weren't stale. They were top notch."

"It's like riding a bicycle."

"What time is it?"

"Ah, yes," I reminded myself. "This encounter has a start and a stop time."

"11:20."

"Damn, you blew me for like 30 minutes. That was awesome, but I better get going. I can't miss my next appointment. I already canceled one today. I'll be in the shithouse if I cancel another."

"You canceled it?"

"Yeah. I lied a little bit earlier."

"You canceled it to come back here?"

"Yeah. Like I said, I thought we vibed. I wanted to see if I was right... You're hot... I really wanted to fuck you... What's the rest of your day like?"

"I work from home."

"I'm finished at 4. If it's cool with you, I can come back then, and we can finish what we started."

"Really?" I asked, my voice higher than I wanted it to be. "That'd be fantastic."

"God," I thought. "I'm going to be like a kid on Christmas Eve."

"I'm going to be hard all day," he said, standing and sliding his boxer briefs on. "And, when I get back, I'm going to hit this... so fucking hard, you're going to see stars."

On "this," he had leaned over and bit my right ass cheek.

"Are you really coming back?" I asked, as he finished dressing and prepared to leave.

He took off his watch -- announced "it's my grandfather's" -- and dropped it on the bed. "I'm really coming back," the drop said.

I spent the next four hours jangled. I showered three times. I cleaned my outside stem to stern. Repeatedly.

I also cleaned my inside. Repeatedly. When I was finished, the water ran perfectly clear. There was no way there'd be any unpleasantness.

I lubed and inserted a plug. Then, I paced and paced, watching the clock as if it might run off, listening to music, watching the clock, and listening to more music.

"Fuck," I thought. "A watched clocked barely moves."

The hours ground on. I tried to sleep, but there was no way that my body would accept sleep.

I got up and watched the driveway. At 4:15, his truck pulled into it. At 4:16, his tongue was in my mouth. At 4:18, we were both naked and waiting for the shower to warm. "I have to shower," he had said, leading me by the mouth back to my bedroom. "I'm dirty and stinky."

I wanted him dirty and stinky, but I was afraid to tell him. So, I simply asked if I could join.

We washed each other. His smooth, soft skin was slippery under my soapy hands.

"What's this?" he asked, touching the knob of the plug as he washed the crack of my ass.

"It's been awhile," I said, sheepishly. "I wanted to be ready."

"My God, you dirty little pig," he said, bending over and kissing me while he worked the plug in and out.

"That feels really good," I whispered.

"I have something that'll feel a whole lot better," he whispered back, pressing what he had forward, against me. With that, he turned off the water not caring that both of us were still soapy in places.

"Playtime's over," he said, stepping out of the shower, pulling my naked, wet body to the bed, kissing me as he did and then as he lowered me, his mouth following mine.

"Spread your legs," he said. "And raise your hips."

When I did, he worked the plug in and out. "Oh yeah," he grunted. "It's showtime."

He pulled the plug gently from me. He lubed the fingers on his left hand and then my entry. He worked his big fingers inside of me, way deeper than the plug had been.

"I prefer to go bare," he said. "I don't have to, but I want to. I really really want to."

I knew I shouldn't let him. I had spent my entire life being careful, and I had no idea who he was or how many asses he had fucked.

But, I was mentally and physically incapable of doing anything that might derail the train approaching me. I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted.. "Bare's fine," I admitted. "Feels better for me, too."

He coated himself with lube. Grabbing my legs, he pulled me to the edge of the bed.

"Here we go," he said, looking down at me as he lined himself up and started pressing in.

"I'm going to fuck you so good," he said, sliding past the first ring of resistance and then the second.

I must have scrunched up my face. "You're okay," he assured me. "Just a little bit more."

I whined as I took "just a little bit more."

"That's it," he said. "I'm all the way in... Jesus, you feel so good... so warm... so tight."

Something released in my channel, and I sad "Oh" at the same time that he said "Oh." Simultaneously, our eyebrows shot up. Without a word, we were in the same moment, in the same space.

"Tell me when," he said. I knew what he meant.

"It's showtime," I said, his words now mine.

"I'm Tina Turner," he said. "I'm gonna start nice and easy. And, then I'm gonna do it rough."

"I like it rough," I lied.

He wasn't kidding. He started sliding his hips back and forth, his thickness spreading me more and more open with each stroke. I was in heaven. I loved the feeling of long, slow strokes penetrating me, spreading me. I was tingling from head to toe.

"Look at me," he said. I had not realized my eyes were closed.

I looked at him. He was bewildering, the combination of beauty and lust mystifying. I couldn't believe I was responsible for the fire in his eyes.

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me.... How you want it."

"Faster," I pleaded. "Please, just faster."

He started going faster. He wasn't going fast enough.

"Faster," I insisted. "Please, just faster."

He was going as fast as he could. My bed was rocking. So was my body.

He was wrecking me. Sweat coated my body and his. We couldn't catch our breath. He started laughing, and so did I.

"Kiss me," he said, leaning down, changing the angle, and burying himself deeper.

I locked my legs around him. I pulled his face to mine. I kissed him as he kept thrusting, the way we were joined ethereal.

"Turn over," he demanded, into my mouth.

I did. He draped me over the edge of the bed and re-entered me. He hooked his arms under mine and pounded me harder than he had pounded me missionary. He was relentless.

"I don't like this," I said.

"Me either."

"Let me up."

He did. I moved to the wall, bracing myself with my palms and raising my hips.

He moved behind me and was back inside of me. His hands were on my hips, bracing me for leverage. He again pounded me harder than he had pounded me missionary. Make no mistake, this was not lovemaking. This was fucking, pure and simple.

I was meeting him. Our bodies were slapping against each other. My dick was slapping against my abdomen. We were on the verge of spasmodic.

We were soaked with sweat when he finally announced, "I'm almost there... I'm almost there."

I squeezed as much as I could as I felt him expand and start to fill me, his body suddenly still as he pulsed inside me over and over and over.

We collapsed to the floor, his wet body covering mine. "Holy shit," he said, sliding out of me. "I mean, I've never."

"Me either. I mean...."

I hadn't come and was still hard. I wiggled around until I was free of him. He saw my erection and dove, taking me in his mouth. "He doesn't suck," I thought.

He was sucking. He was sucking hard. I grabbed his hair, trying to pull him off of me. I couldn't.

"Ray, stop," I demanded. "I can't... I'm gonna... Jesus... Fuck."

I came. Hard. Ray choked and then gagged. It was too much. It spilled out. But, he didn't pull off. He kept going. He kept going until I was done, spent. He kept going until I was eviscerated.

"I thought you didn't... " I started, once we were side by side on my bed, drifting off.

"I don't," he said.

"But you did."

"I did."

"Why?"

"I couldn't help myself."

He fucked me two more times that afternoon, both times like the first. Insane. Intense.

"My God," I thought to myself, lying next to him, sated and satiated.. "I can't believe I've been depriving myself of this."

He was sleeping. His dick was soft. It looked delicious. I slipped around and took him in my mouth, fitting him comfortably inside. I could taste myself on him. It was not as bad as I expected.

I used my tongue under him. As he started to harden in my mouth, I started bobbing back and forth, working him to a full erectin.

"Hmm," he said from above. "This is a great way to wake up."

I raised my eyes. His beautiful eyes were looking back at mine.

"Cum for me," I said, silently, without words.

He smiled. He raised his legs so he was on his heels. He started thrusting his hips up to meet my downstrokes.

"V," he yelled. "It's coming! It's coming!"

I was processing that he had called me V when he filled my mouth, over and over and over. I gulped it all. I was sure this was our last load, and I wanted all of it. I didn't want to lose of miss any of him.

"Motherfucker," he said, when he was soft and no longer in my mouth. "I mean, that's grade A stuff, V... Like, top notch, all world."

"I like doing it."

"No, you don't. You love doing it."

"I totally love doing it. More than anything."

"It shows. You're great at it."

We slowly disentangled. I felt like neither of us wanted it to end, but that may have been a wishful feeling.

"I need to get going," he said, pulling on his boxers.

"I know."

"This was great. Thank you."

"Thank you," I answered. "I had a great day. I'm glad you came back... both times."

"Me, too," he said, turning my head to his and, for the final time, taking my mouth in his.

"Jesus," I thought. "This boy can sure kiss."

"Sorry," he said at the door. "But, we don't repeat. It's one of our rules."