The Outback Ch. 03

I spent the next days feeling elated. The shocked look on Neel's face as I came over him was etched onto my mind. The power I felt over him as he lay there, seemingly helpless, a slave to my touch.

I somehow convinced myself that I was wielding all the power. I felt as though I could make him do anything to have his cock sucked again.

The obviously submissive act of sucking another man's cock seemed not to factor in my thinking. I was feeling powerful.

We had both been starved of contact for so long, that it was like a dam wall breaking. Horny doesn't quite convey the depth of focus I had on sexual gratification over those coming days, and Neel appeared to be much the same.

I thought of sex constantly. Every moment, I was either focused on remembering the feeling of the velvet-smooth head of his cock in my mouth, or wondering how I could get another chance to taste his delicious pre-cum.

We never mentioned what had happened. It was an unspoken memory between us. Neither of us wanted to be the first to bring it up in case it admitted something that we weren't ready to acknowledge.

Neel seemed to be watching me constantly, and I was always aware of his gaze. His desire was clear, and I wielded it like a weapon.

As Neel stood at the bench one evening, preparing food for dinner, I sat at the table, facing towards him. The magazine in front of me lay open, a mere cover story for my presence in the room.

I watched him intently as he chopped the vegies, glancing up at me from time to time. Each glance was met with a sultry gaze, my tongue occasionally sneaking out over my slightly parted lips, moistening their soft surface.

Each time, he would blush furiously and look back at his work, chopping with renewed vigour. I could see him pressing his pelvis against the bench, trying to will away the erection that was developing.

Seeing my opportunity, I decided it had to be now. I walked over slowly, coming up behind him as he chopped furiously, doing his best to ignore me.

He stopped as I put my hands on his hips, gripping his waist band and slowly slipping his shorts down to his thighs, exposing his bare arse and freeing his swelling cock.

He turned to me, trying to pull back a little from the close proximity of my body against his, but trapped against the bench he had nowhere to go. I smiled and lowered myself down onto my knees, burying my face in his crotch and breathing deeply on his masculine scent.

I felt Neel's hand on the back of my head, pushing me forward against his junk. His balls squashed against my chin. He ground his pelvis against my face, rubbing his hard cock against me. I moaned, encouraging him.

My tongue ventured from my mouth, lapping against his warm sack in broad, slow strokes. With one hand, I reached up and gripped his cock, just holding it without stroking as I toyed with his balls.

He pushed into my grip, trying to fuck my hand, seeking the pleasure that he knew I could give him. His hands gripped the bench, holding him up.

My mouth continued to work his balls, stroking the soft yet rough skin of his scrotum with my raspy tongue. I worked saliva from my mouth, lubricating my tongue as I lapped at his sensitive package.

Slowly, I started to stroke him, my hand rewarded with a quick glob of lubricating pre cum on the first stroke. He had been building this for a while.

He moaned as I spread the glorious fluid over his smooth head, the skin sliding silkily across his sensitive glans.

Angling my jaw, I delved deeper, forcing his legs apart as his shorts dropped to the floor. With each lick, I ventured deeper into the cleft between his legs, constantly seeking for another taste of his sweaty musk.

I stroked the wiry hair of his perineum with my broad tongue, savouring the unfamiliar masculinity of this hidden zone. He moaned his appreciation as I stroked him.

My own neglected cock throbbed in my pants, forgotten as I found a new focus. Neel's pleasure fed me. I feasted on him and wanted more.

I worked in long, languorous strokes, from the darkness behind his package, up and over his sack. My hand stroked him faster as his moans grew more insistent. I could tell he was close.

Like a man dying of thirst, I looked up at him as I stroked. My mouth was open, waiting for my precious reward.

He leaned back against the bench, tweaking his nipples under his singlet with both hands. His breath came in fast panting gasps, every fevered exhalation a moan.

His ejaculation seemed to come up from his toes, as a muscular wave rippled up through his whole body. He convulsed violently, the jerking movement almost knocking him off balance. His cock gave an almighty throb, and his balls contracted, launching a huge stream of cum up into the air.

It splashed down across my face, filling my mouth and dripping from my chin. I lapped at it furiously with my tongue, trying to catch what I could. Again and again, he erupted, a fountain of cum like I'd never seen.

With my spare hand I cupped his balls, tickling the skin behind them as he came for what seemed like an age.

His muscular spasms finally slowed, and I sat back on my haunches before him. Cum coated my face and shirt and ran down my hand to my wrist. I stood up slowly in front of him as he caught his breath, slumped against the kitchen bench.

With direct eye contact I licked his cum from my hand, before wiping my face with a tea towel.

Feigning a level of nonchalance that I certainly didn't feel, I wandered back to the table and my magazine. The smell of the cum soaking into my T shirt filled my nostrils as I casually flicked a page.

"Is dinner far off?" I asked as he stared at me incredulously. "I'm starving."

The following days unfolded in much the same way. We both distracted ourselves with work through the day before the evening forced us back together again. I would spend my time trying to attract his attention, and then ignoring his attention, before jumping on him when he had his guard down.

I began to try to surprise him with blow jobs, approaching him while he was distracted with something else. He never knocked it back, in fact he looked to be sporting a half hard-on most of the day now. Rarely did I find him wearing underwear.

Over a few days, I managed to suck him off in most rooms of the house, and even once leaning against the veranda pole at sunset, where I'd first seen him jerk off into the dust.

Sometimes I jerked off as I blew him, inevitably shooting my load as he came into my mouth. Sometimes, though, I didn't bother. I would get hard, but my obsession seemed to be developing around getting him off.

The taste of his cum seemed to be in my mouth all the time. I longed for it. I yearned for the look of absolute pleasure on his face as he erupted.

It became increasingly obvious as the days continued that he was not offering to reciprocate. I never asked for it, and had not expected it, but the seed of frustration was noticeable in the pit of my stomach now. I wondered how long it would go before he would even offer me a hand job.

Still, despite all of this, our continued 'extra-curricular activities' remained unspoken. He would pull up his shorts, I would wipe my chin, and we'd continue about the day as if nothing had happened.

The only noticeable difference was a slight but noticeable change in physical distance. I would notice a hand resting on my lower back as he stood beside me to see what I was making for dinner. A pat on the shoulder would accompany his farewell as he left for the morning while I still sat finishing my breakfast.

It was a definite relaxation of the usually stringent rules around male-to-male touch in Aussie culture.

The realisation that I craved his touch shook me when it finally came.

One evening, a storm seemed to be shaking the very foundations of the house. Wind whipped against the windows and rain fell in a torrential downpour, overwhelming the gutters and flowing in a virtual waterfall around the whole house.

The humidity was nearly unbearable, and we coped with it in the only way we knew how -- beer!

We drank into the night, laughing and telling stories of our life before isolation. It seemed like a world away. It was an easy camaraderie. The conversation flowed as freely as the grog.

Neel watched me hungrily as I stood up, staggering a little as the alcohol tipped the floor. Half joking to cover my stagger, I fell into his lap, hand on my forehead like a swooning dame.

He pushed me off, cursing me good-naturedly, but not before I felt the erection pressing into the small of my back.

I looked at him for a moment, speculatively, but as my head spun, I decided it was time to head for bed. I wished him good night, and headed for my bedroom, one hand running along the wall for support.

I stripped away my clothes, and stared at my naked form in the mirror as I brushed the acrid taste of beer from my mouth.

A long, noisy piss, and I fell onto the bed, fan blowing hot air against my naked body in a vain attempt to cool off.

I was not surprised to hear my bedroom door open, the darkness allowing just the outline of Neel's muscular form.

I rolled over to the edge of the bed and reached up to pull off his shorts. As he stepped into the moonlight that streamed into my room, I saw that he was already naked. His raging erection pointed to the ceiling, twitching in time with his heart beat.

I grabbed a hold and pulled him towards me, my mouth already filling with saliva in anticipation of his taste. Surprisingly, he pulled back.

"No" he said quietly, but firmly. "It's not your mouth I want tonight." His voice had a low edge to it, just bordering on a growl.

"It's been too long since I got to fuck something." He continued. "My dick needs a hole. Your hole. You're going to turn around now and let me fuck you."

My mind cleared almost instantaneously. The alcohol fuelled cloud seemed to vanish as I realised what he was saying.

He wanted to fuck me.

Even more shocking still, I found that I wanted him to.

I looked up at him, our eyes meeting for a second that felt like an hour. He stared at me unflinching, clear in his desire. I lay sprawled naked on the bed before him, defenceless and submissive.

All my illusions of control melted away as he stood there towering over me. He had the power. I was his.

I blinked, my acquiescence to his request clear. Nervously I turned myself around, my cock hard with anticipation as I got up onto all fours. Spreading my knees, I presented myself to him, arse up and torso down on the bed.

I felt a naked vulnerability that I had never experienced before, even when I knelt before him sucking his cock. My arse was spread in front of him, showing him a part of me that had barely seen the light of day. Never had I allowed someone access to this part of my body.

I shook with nerves and anticipation. I revelled in my submission. My skin was electric, beads of sweat gathering in the humidity.

Our naked bodies glowed moonlight silver in the mirrored cupboard doors. I watched his reflection as he laid a hand on my arse, stroking his cock with his other hand. He leaned forward a little, a wad of spit dropping from his mouth onto my splayed arse crack.

The warm saliva was like a shock running into me, the wet fluid dribbling down between my cheeks. I let out an involuntary moan as he rubbed the saliva over my hole with his thumb, just pressing against the tight muscle.

"You want this, don't you." He said, huskily. "You've been gagging for my cock all this time. You want me up in there. Your arse is mine now."

I mumbled a reply, barely intelligible but clearly in the affirmative. As if to prove it, I pressed my arse back against him, his thumb just pushing through the muscle before he adjusted and rubbed around the outside once again.

He leaned over and dropped another wad of spit, this time onto the end of his hard cock. He smeared it over the head and shaft, mixing it with the precum that leaked copiously from him.

My own cock dripped endlessly onto the bedsheets beneath me.

His weight shifted as he leaned forward, cock in hand, pressing it against my hole. By reflex I tightened, squeezing down in a panic against the unexpected intrusion.

Consciously slowing my breathing, I tried to relax against his firm pressure, the picture of an unfolding flower somehow finding its way into my mind.

The pressure against me increased as he pushed forward insistently. With his spare hand, he gripped my hip, stopping me from pulling away as he pushed harder and harder against me.

I tried again to relax, allowing myself to be pulled back against his hard cock.

With a sudden give, I felt my arse open with a sharp, searing pain. I gave a grunting cry into the mattress as his cock, having passed the initial barrier, pushed into me with a relentless thrust.

His never-ending shaft entered me, opening a road inside me that had never been explored. The pain of it was all-encompassing. My mind blanked out a little as I could concentrate on nothing but the sharp intensity of my invaded hole.

Finally, his pelvis pressed against my buttocks, his ballsack against my perineum. He let out a long, moaning, "fuuuuuck!!" as he pressed against me, trying to go even deeper.

"That's so fucking tight, it feels like you're going to rip my dick off." He voice had a note of wonder.

Both hands on my hips now, he pulled back and thrust into me again, the pain rekindling almost immediately.

Seemingly oblivious to my discomfort, he started to fuck me, pulling out and slamming in again with skin slapping against skin.

My body was limp as I lay sprawled beside him. Cheek to the mattress, I could see him fucking my arse, his masculine body dominating me as I lay submissively before him.

He looked so fucking hot.

As my arse finally accommodated to his big cock, the pain slowly gave way. A tight friction began to replace it, felt mostly at the entry to my hole. As well, I could feel him plunging into my insides, his cock exploring the depths of my pelvis that had been as yet uninvaded.

The beginnings of pleasure began to kindle deep inside the base of my cock. I could almost feel it, just out of reach. Like a forgotten name, almost remembered, it simmered there inside me.

I began to chase down the pleasure, trying to fan the flame.

I pushed myself up onto all fours again, lifting my torso up off the mattress and tilting my arse up into the air. I pushed back against him as he thrust into me, changing the angle of his thrust.

I was closer now, I could feel the pleasure just beginning to grow inside of me. I needed more.

The pain was forgotten now. The pleasure lay just outside of my grasp.

As I pushed against him, I could feel my arse squeezing him, rhythmically massaging his sensitive cock as he fucked me.

It was more than he could bear. In seconds I felt the pressure of his thrusts change. His breathing shifted gear and he began to pant. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me back hard against his pelvis as he rammed into me again and again. His sweat dripped on my back like molten fire.

Reaching forward, he grabbed my shoulders, his thrusts now a frenzied, uncoordinated mess as he fucked towards his orgasm. I moaned, egging him on.

"Fuck." Was all he could utter, again and again as he rammed into me.

Finally, with one arm wrapped around under my torso, he slammed into me a final time, his cock spasming and spewing a huge load of cum deep into my pelvis.

He collapsed against me, his body slick with sweat and his muscles twitching. As he caught his breath, he straightened, pulling his cock unceremoniously out of my arse and stepping back. I tried to clench down, a trail of cum escaping me and running down along my balls.

I rolled onto my back as he looked down at me awkwardly, his mouth half open as if to say something. I saw him glance at my cock, hard and slick now with the precum that he'd fucked out of me running along the shaft.

He paused a moment, as if in indecision, before turning and walking back through the door, his softening cock flicking a last drop of cum onto the floorboards as he spun.

I lay on my back, breathless and taken aback, barely processing what had just happened.

A tiny flame burned inside me, like a pilot light, just out of reach. Alone now, I stroked myself to orgasm, that delicious pleasure like a taste only half remembered. Spent, drunk, and covered in cum, I closed my eyes and slept.

********

I slept fitfully in the sticky heat, a dream turning around in my mind.

I walked into the changerooms of my old footy side in Melbourne, the familiar smells of sweat and piss hitting my nostrils. The team laughed and joked, boots and uniforms covered in mud and sweat.

The sharp hiss of opening beer bottles echoed through the room. A win! A celebration.

I caught my reflection in the large mirrors over the handbasins. Stark naked, I stood among my fully dressed teammates. My florid erection swung before me as I walked.

I blushed furiously as I looked around me, embarrassed to be seen so aroused. The team went about their drinking and joking as if I didn't exist.

I tried to cover myself, searching around for a towel, but nothing lay within reach. My arms seemed out of my control. I couldn't seem to move them as I wanted.

Slowly, deliberately, my body walked itself through the crowd of drinking sportsmen. I brushed against them as I passed, their mud and sweat wiping onto my bare skin.

I found myself approaching the bench that ran down the centre of the room. Feet apart, my body slowly bent down, hands reaching out for the bench. At right angles, I stood there, bare arse in the air, looking around at my team as they drank, oblivious.

My heart beat, and a body was behind me, his face somehow out of view. A hand rested on my hip. The heat warmed me and made me shiver at the same time.

A mouthful of spit dropped between my cheeks, a rough thumb rubbing it into me. I moaned involuntarily.

The team ignored the hulking man behind me as he freed his hard cock, slapping it against my splayed arse with a wet thwack. Pressure centred on my hole, the briefest moment of resistance and then he was in, fucking me enthusiastically.

Beer in hand, he continued his conversation with the bloke beside him as his cock rammed repeatedly into my tight hole. He was interrupted only briefly while his orgasm took him over, filling my arse with his hot cum before pulling out and tucking his cock back into his pants.

Another stepped in behind me, sliding his hard cock easily through my cum-dripping hole. To my left, a huge cock hovered, it's owner's hand on my neck pulling my face towards it, until he filled my throat.

I was a blur of cock, and cum, and sweat and heat.

My own cock throbbed and pumped as I was fucked.

I was pleasure and submission and delirium.

********

I woke with a throbbing head, and an aching cock, fresh, wet-dream cum gluing my sheets to my belly, and dried cum stuck to my arse.

Dazed, I climbed out of bed and crawled to the shower.

The water drummed against my skin. I felt electric. My pelvis ached, and my arse was raw as I washed away the remnants of last night's encounter. But despite the pain, a new sensation burned inside of me.

The memory of that distant pleasure was still with me, still just out of my grasp. Memories of the night flashed into my hung-over mind. I could still feel his cock stretching my hole, probing parts of my body that had never been explored.

I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, the weight of his body pushing down on me. I could feel the soft slap of his balls against my pelvis, his hands on my hips.

I was shocked at how quickly I had succumbed to his advances, but the hint of pleasure still deep in my pelvis hovered in my mind like a question mark.