Tongue Tail

Here was greed, pure and unabashed. This was pure animal need now, getting really intense, Wild Kingdom stuff for sure. My move knocked him off balance, but he was right back where I needed him in a flash, and now, using his hands to really open me up to him, I felt his slippery tongue dance teasingly around my dark ring then, finding the opening, probe my pungent tightness with serious purpose, and slowly gain entry.

I'd had my finger up in there before, but that was MY finger. This was something else again. The main thing of course being that it was the real flesh of someone else; hot, surging, alive. Greedy in its own right. But I'd forgotten how long that tongue looked! And now he was really showing me; I was FEELING how long it was!!! It felt impossible somehow, the way it seemed to keep growing and swirling inside me. My body began to undulate, stomach muscles clenching, and something deeper was triggered. Unleashed. I was losing control of my body but this was completely new territory. I could feel myself poised on the brink of something unprecedented.

It took precisely four pushes, prolonged, rhythmic, insistent, each deeper than the last, with that hot tongue exploring and tasting new flesh on every advance. And I was backing into him shamelessly, helping him spread my cheeks wider, urging him on, welcoming everything he could give me, when it happened. It started with a tingle, became a hum, then a vibration, then a throbbing, then an outright shaking. He was holding onto my hips, and I'd grabbed the back of his head, pressing and holding him in there as deep as possible, when I began to go off like a Roman Candle. I closed my eyes, arched my back, and just let everything go. I was gasping, then shouting his name, when my brain exploded; I could feel fireworks (and see them too, behind my closed eyes!) from my hair to my toenails, all of it radiating from a clenching, convulsing, contracting/expanding core I'd never known existed. Barry had really done it now, and we were both dealing with the consequences now.

It seemed to go on and on, and he was right there for some of it, holding on, face still wedged between my buns. My anus, spasming powerfully, repeatedly, endlessly it seemed, must have made him fear for his tongue's circulation, but at some point my thrashing, heaving, bucking, thrusting antics, completely out of my own control, dislodged him and made him a spectator. I had to cling to the counter just to keep my balance. And when everything finally subsided I still nearly collapsed. It wasn't quite shock I was feeling, but pretty close to it.

I hadn't really even thought of my cock much, beyond the clear evidence it had shown of my progressively building desire. Really it had been no more than a barometer of what was coming, by no means the center or vortex of it. Yes -- I'd felt, more than seen, the fabulous release, and was aware when I "came" in that typical way. But I knew too, that a prodigious ejaculation had been only one component of something so, so, so, so much more; so much bigger, so much more spectacular, wondrous, and beautifully explosive than any cock-centered orgasm I'd ever had. Yet still, what a mess I'd made!

My pudding was literally everywhere. I'd somehow managed to pepper my own hair with small droplets, and there were more of those all over the place. I'd hit my own chin with a sticky blast, left numerous large splashes on the counter – including a tremendous puddle welling in the sink -- and painted the mirror above the oak vanity with a long, crazy white streak as well. The old riddle, "What's gray and comes (cums) in quarts?" (answer: an elephant) popped into my head for the briefest instant. Apt.

I still stood, but just barely, trembling, knees shaking, slack-jawed, as my breathing gradually returned to something near normal. I looked at myself, turned on the water, wet my hands and began to wipe my face off, rinse the sink. I was shaking my head, eyes closed, in disbelief, returning to earth, when his arms wrapped around my belly, a hug in reverse, and his face appeared around my body in the mirror, looking around to find my reflected eyes. "You okay?" he asked quietly. He looked great; flushed, kind' sweaty, hair tousled, mouth slick, but I think he was stunned himself. When he began to survey things on this side of my body, his mouth, too, fell open, eyes growing wider. A crooked, satisfied smile grew.

"I don't kn-.... Yeah, I'm fine, but..." the words were hard to find. The truth was I'd probably never been better, but the greater truth was I'd probably never be the same. Not after something like that. I looked in the mirror. I felt new, but it was still me. "I don't know what to think, to say. I nev –"

"Hey, relax. You don't have to define it," he cut in.

"But I do, Barry. Everything...how you touch me, what you -- you don't understand, Barry, how unbelievable that was. I have to --"

"I was there, "he interjected, "and it was amazing. YOU were beautiful. Now relax!"

"But I don't even know what that was. And I didn't do a thing, it was you. I mean, I know I came – Shit, I've never come like that in my life, it was so, so, so amazing. You make me feel things, God -- so alive, so good. I've never felt anything close..."

"I think you should I did some things I've never done before either, to anyone. It just seemed -– well -- I wanted to. It was right. I guess maybe I got a little carried away, but...you do know how much I enjoyed this too, don't you?" he asked.

I slumped to the floor facing him. "I'm so glad you got carried away," I laughed. "But you do know,....there's no way I can leave now," I mused. "At least not until I get you back for that....somehow," I added slyly, only partly in jest.

I really liked the look that comment elicited.

For I didn't want to stop. I wanted more....from him. Even more than that, to give more of myself....to him. And I wanted to do it now.

Sure, there was some sense of feeling like I owed him (how could there not be?), but it was more gratitude – and full-blown lust, if I'm being honest -- than obligation that I felt right then, plus I knew any pleasure I could give him would be reciprocated in full; clearly I'd found someone who'd please me no matter what we tried. It was a clear win-win proposition. And honestly, I couldn't think of anything I didn't want to try with him.

But there was absolutely no doubt in my mind about what I HOPED to try next. I can honestly say that before that day I'd never thought about another cock for more than an instant, and never in a sexual way, but I'd thought about Barry's a few moments before in the full heat of our encounter, and it was on my mind again now. Seriously on my mind. In a more contemplative, purposeful, constructive way.

I had big plans for it already, but the first thing was to arrange a meet and greet....straightaway. I didn't even know if he'd want to do what I had in mind, but he seemed open-minded enough, and he'd been eager enough to put his tongue back there. So why not something else? It might take some persuasion, but that could be fun, too.

And if I had my way, and if he would agree to it, Barry would be doing something else to my butt before long. After what had just happened with him, I couldn't help thinking about it. Let's just say that with him, I'd quickly developed a taste for more. And, it seemed, a habit for doing more than I ever thought I would, too.

Barry HAD more, that much I knew. I was already feeling a bigger, more fundamental need back there, and from the looks of things, there could be no doubt that Barry would be able fill it AND THEN SOME. I knew I'd found someone who could scratch any sexual itch I had, however deep. And right then I was feeling a growing hunger, but not for food.

"Somehow it doesn't seem fair," I announced in a steady voice, "that one of us has to be naked, while the other gets to keep his clothes on." I caught his eyes, let him see mine drop and fix on that big bulge in his jeans. "So....?"

to be continued...