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|He had a car, which was good. Not that I needed one anymore, but for his sake it was probably "safer" or something. His fear was a kind of aphrodisiac, I have to admit. Sure, the whole school knew what was up with me, how could they not be? I was being far from discrete and I couldn't give a fuck about that. But being all secret put something back into the experience that had been missing. The threat of exposure was intoxicating. He wanted what I had, namely liberation. Freedom.
We sat side by side in the front seats of that fucking Lexus all the way to his house. Never said a word.
We went to his house, as I used the excuse that we couldn't be alone at mine. Predictably, the guy was loaded, or his family was at least. He turned the car through the gates to some enclosed collection of monstrosities and then to a cul-de-sac at the end of which stood his fucking mansion, I shit you not.
"Don't say it," he joked. "I know it's ugly."
"Big," I grunted.
He sort of laughed. "Look who's talking."
I wanted to kiss him when we got out of the car, but he didn't want me to so I couldn't. This was weird for me, feeling like I wanted to do something and not being able to. With every other guy, what they wanted was automatically what I wanted. With this guy, I wanted him so, so badly and I could feel he wanted me, too, but he was scared. Scared of what I wasn't sure. I wasn't going to hurt him, I wanted to please him, more than anything in the world I wanted that.
Unfortunately for me, the way to please him was to keep my hands off him.
I walked past him into the marble foyer and paused, looking at his beautiful face. His skin was dark and creamy, like hot, black coffee with rich cream. He had thick wavy hair, and the longest eyelashes I'd ever seen. "May I kiss you?" I kept my hands off him, but my body was drinking him in. "I want to kiss you, Brett."
"You haven't said my name," he said. "That's the first time you've said it." Then he kissed me.
I was taller than he was in my new body. Bigger, too, more muscled. But he was in control. He put his hand on my jawline and pulled my mouth to his and he kissed me. Softly, gently, tentatively. He closed his eyes and allowed our mouths to linger there. He was feeling the kiss, really feeling it, allowing himself to explore what it felt like, what I felt like. Nothing else between us touched. Just his hand on my face and our lips together.
I was in heaven. The feedback from the softness or it, the genuine feeling of it, of him, built upon itself and swelled inside me. It was sex and excitement and fear and passion. It was need and curiosity and gentleness and... love? Was that love?
He broke the kiss just as softly, just as gently. "Was that all right?" I was lost for words. I could nod. I nodded. Yes, I thought, that was perfect. "I've never kissed another guy before," he admitted.
"For a first time," I whispered, "you did fucking great."
He closed the door behind me. My eyes were glued to his features, his face, his eyes. I wanted to kiss him again and again, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. Not yet. I was drowning in need, in the desire of him, torturing my body that had been fed sex constantly and was now not even allowed to touch him. He smiled at me and brushed the hair from his eyes. He had dark hair, almost black. It was soft and wavy and full. I wanted to grab it in my hand, feel its softness, and shove my mouth against his.
"Hungry?" he asked. I parted my lips, started to say, `Only for you,' but instead the words I spoke were, "I could eat."
I followed him into the kitchen. Those pants were made for an ass as fine as his. The two round balls of his butt rose and fell as he walked. His hips swayed with promise, with a suppressed sensuality that was finding itself with me here to appreciate it, with another man who knew his secret, who shared it, who had fucked Coach Landers on the football field and everyone knew it.
He untucked his shirt and it fell down loosely over his butt. I started to object until I noticed that he was unbuttoning it. I wished I could watch him expose his smoothly muscled chest again, but I stayed behind and watched his easy gestures. He probably did this everyday once he got home. He would walk inside, close the door behind him and start stripping his beautiful body from the clothes that concealed it.
He rolled his shoulders and the shirt fell from his dark skin. His back was as fine as his front, a network of power trained for years to do whatever he wanted of it. Bulges of muscle fought each other for space under his silken flesh. The shirt was tossed aside to the floor. Did he even have the first clue how sexy he was?
He paused to shove his shoes off next, bouncing slightly for balance as his toe caught the heel and he pulled one foot free and then the other. He wasn't wearing socks. Now he walked away from me in his Levi's. I could see the gathered waistband of his shorts. They were bright white against the dark tan of his tight waist. He didn't turn as he said, "Feel free to take your shirt off. It's always hot in here until the A/C kicks in."
Shit, maybe he didn't know how sexy he was. Which just made him sexier in my book.
I decided to give him a show, though. So when he turned to me in the kitchen, I pulled the tank over my head and tossed it aside. I revealed the amazing strength of my new body, allowing my muscles to swell as I removed the shirt so that it must have looked like the slim thing had somehow managed to compress my body inside it until I could emerge from that cocoon all new and powerful. My chest expanded, my lats flared, my belly tightened and swelled with rippled brawn. I stood there and looked back at him. My chest was rising and falling with each breath.
He liked what he saw, evidently. I couldn't help but smile as his jeans bulged. "Oh my fucking god," he said softly. His gaze heated my skin. He was taking me all in, burning the sight of me into his brain. "You're..." Whatever I was, he couldn't say it. He froze in place, his mouth slightly open, just staring at me.
I cleared my throat and folded my thickly muscled arms across my bulging chest. "What did you want to eat?" He knew exactly what I meant. His eyes locked onto the fat inches of man meat coiled in my shorts. I had a salami I couldn't hide.
But he wasn't quite ready. He swallowed hard and turned, opening the fridge and bending over to see what was inside. I could almost hear his tight, cherry asshole calling my dick. "There's some pizza from last night," he said, "or I could make a sandwich." He ducked his head under his arm and asked, "You eat meat?"
I had to laugh. "Every chance I get," I said. He just kept walking into it, didn't he?
He laughed then, too, and straightened. He mimicked my stance, folding his arms across his chest, and scratched his chin. "I have a better idea," he said. He nodded toward a set of glass doors and grinned. "Wanna go swimming?" He scanned my bod again. "You look pretty hot, Jackson. The pool will cool you off."
"I didn't bring a suit."
He was already undoing his 501's, pulling the button fly open. "Not a problem." He shoved his jeans off his hips and stepped out of the denim, and then he walked toward me in his underwear. He was wearing boxer briefs, and they had buttons too. His cock was pressing against the material wanting release. He stood close, almost touching my body with his. His thumbs hooked under his waistband and he slowly pulled the cotton shorts off his skin. His eyes never left mine as his body dipped down, and then he kicked his shorts from his naked body and stood before me. His dick, released from its confinement, pulsed and throbbed with each beat of his heart, climbing higher and growing harder by the second.
I smiled, lowering my hands to my own shorts. "You excited about something?"
"Why do you ask?" His hands rested at his sides. The tip of his cock glistened.
I shrugged. "Just a hunch." I moved my gaze down to his hardness, eyeing his shaft and the bubble of clearness swelling in its piss slit. "You seem anxious."
He shrugged. He started to move his hand onto his erection but I stopped him, caught his hand in mine. "No," I said softly, "that'll be my pleasure." God, he wanted it bad. I could feel his need like hot water over my skin.
"First," I answered, tossing my arm across his shoulder, "we swim."
Outside, it really was hot. The surface of the pool glittered. It was surrounded by lush gardens and tall trees overhung the blue water. It was like a little paradise in his backyard. He seemed to calm down a little now that the moment had passed, at least his dick was now wagging between his legs instead of beating a rhythm against his tight little belly.
His body was amazing, whether it was in clothes or out of them. He moved with such a sense of knowledge of its abilities. He was more completely comfortable in his nudity than anyone I ever saw, with the exception of my new friends. He moved with a sensual grace and ease that promised that sex with him would be incredible -- not that I didn't know that already. But I couldn't keep my eyes off him. I wondered what he looked like dancing.
"Nice," I said as I looked around.
"Thanks," he said.
"The pool ain't bad either."
He laughed, even though it wasn't funny. So he wasn't entirely relaxed yet. "So."
He gave a pointed glance at my shorts. "You gonna...?"
"I'm gonna... what?" I loved torturing him.
"Brett," I said, "just ask me. I'll do whatever you want."
His eyes narrowed. "Anything?" I nodded, a smile winding across my lips. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. For later." He suddenly dove into the water, slicing the surface with smooth ease, almost making no splash at all. He came back to the surface and blew out his breath, bobbing in the water easily. "It feels fucking great!" he announced, then he launched a splash toward me.
"I guess I'll join you then." And I finally gave him what he'd been waiting for so long.
I peeled myself naked very slowly. I wanted him to enjoy this. I turned down the waistband once, then again, then again. It was now low enough on my hips that one more turn would expose my massive prick. So instead, I turned around and pushed the shorts slowly off my round and perfect ass. Then I turned back, and with my eyes on his face, I began to reveal my wonder inch by motherfucking inch.
As the air hit my flesh, I let myself grow. His eyes grew almost as large as my dick. I stretched and swelled as I stripped until, when I finally tossed my shorts aside, I stood in ultimate naked glory before him. Could he tell how tall I was, how broad, how powerful? Did he see what I owned? I was showing him nearly a foot long cock, thick and full and proud. Almost 12 fucking inches of fat, firm meat hanging so plump and long between my powerful legs, arching proudly over my round and firm nuts. My pubes glistened like spun metal, shiny and soft and inviting. My ass was high and firm, round with hard power.
I wanted to show him my all, reveal my ultimate self to him -- all sixteen inches -- but I didn't know what he'd think, what he'd feel. I wasn't getting the signals off him. He was a Cipher, he didn't feed my radar anything.
Whatever he said, I didn't hear it. Because I dove into the water as easily as he had done, and I broke the surface in front of his face, and I grabbed it and kissed him full and deep.
"Amazing," is what he finally said. "You bet your ass," I answered, and then I reached under him and found his hardness had returned. I stroked him once, and felt it through my whole body, and then dove underneath the surface and swam away from him to the other end of the pool, dragging my wet and well-muscled body from the water to sit on the edge, my dick dangling between my muscled thighs nearly all the way into the water.
He came up to me slowly across the pool, stopping in front of me, his eyes at the same level as my fat dick. "You're amazing."
I had to agree. "You ain't seen nothing, yet," I growled. I tickled my monster and the end dipped deeper toward the water.
He came closer. "Can I...?"
"You can do anything you want, Brett." I leaned back, shoving my crotch toward him. "Anything."
He reached his fingers toward me and brushed my dick, stroking the shaft almost reverently. He cupped his hand and lifted the head toward him. I nearly shivered with anticipation. He looked into my eyes and brought me to his lips and pressed them to my dick, his warmth to mine. His opened his mouth and stretched out his pink tongue and tasted me, licking under the helmet and darting his tip into the piss slit.
He was exploring, feeling my dick, testing his desires. He wanted to have me inside, I knew it, but he was afraid, even now. I stayed soft for him, even though he was capable of making me very hard. My full strength cock might shock him, swollen to beer can thickness and shiny and red. It truly was a monster cock, but I allowed myself to be tamed by his touch. He kissed it, his soft lips pressed against me. I could feel him so keenly, I wanted to push myself into his mouth, make him swallow me whole. His hands were on my thighs, now, and he pushed my legs wider to give his mouth better access.
He kissed the length of me and then pressed his nose to my soft, curling pubes. He mouth sucked against me, his fingers were digging into my muscle. He was losing himself, I could see. His hunger was overwhelming him, the hunger for me. Now that he allowed himself to be with me, he was starting to really get into it.
He licked my inches and I started to harden for him. This excited him more and his mouth clamped onto me and he started sucking, so I released a drop of myself into his mouth, allowing him to taste another man. I wondered if he'd ever tasted himself, dipped his fingers into his own spilled seed and licked them clean, his mouth coated with his salty cum. I wondered what he tasted like. I wondered if he found me as delicious as William did.
He sucked against me like a child on a tit, wanting more and more of my dick. If this was his first time, he was truly talented. I became harder still, my cock angling out of the water and growing thicker. He didn't stop, if anything he doubled his efforts.
What did he want, this beautiful man? Did he want me to cum? Did he want to swallow my load? Did he want me to spray across his chest, my pearlescent cream hanging in thick drops among his chest hair? Did he want to feel me cum, or watch me cum? Would he swallow his first load of another man's seed? I was boiling with desire and curiosity.
His mouth felt so wonderful, His tongue wrapped around me. It was rough, stiff, almost like another dick. I could feel the back of his throat and he was practically climbing atop me. I realized pretty quickly that this position wasn't allowing him full access, so I moved back and he, like a puppy on a leash, lifted himself from the water still attached to my cock!
This boy was hungry! He was finally getting what he wanted, and he wasn't about to let go! Was this a dream for him? Was he afraid I was going to disappear? I moved onto the lawn, the soft green grass, and he stayed with me, grinning up at me, his wet body slightly colder than mine, his skin slick and cool against mine. Now my cock was hard, but I still didn't want to scare him off by allowing my final inches to reveal themselves. Still, the boy was going to town on a 12- incher like he was born to it.
And, damn, did he feel good. So fucking great. But not like what I was expecting. William made it sound like our love-making would blow the top off my head, sink me into some deep well of sexual pleasure so intense that I'd felt like I'd died and gone to heaven. Don't get me wrong, the blow job was amazing, but no more amazing than what I'd been experiencing ever since my slow change from average great lover to supersex god had started.
I said, "I'm going to cum," to warn him. He never let up, he was pratically sucking it out of me. Then he did something surprising, something I never expected a first-timer to do. He grabbed my balls, and these are some ample fruit, and tugged. Hard. He didn't want me to cum, wouldn't let me! He wanted to drive me wild, make me beg for it. What was he gonna do next, stick his fist up my ass?
He'd obviously done some reading, or maybe the time he spent alone in the shower wasn't all about getting clean -- maybe it was about getting dirty.
God, I was really riding the crest, now. I reached up and twisted my titties, I was arching my back and feeling it everywhere. I groaned, a deep dark sound. I needed to cum, Jesus but I did! His grip was still on my balls. He must be feeling them churn, feel my load building and building, getting hotter and hotter. Was my dick growing again, because it sure felt like it. It was so hot and hard, it wanted to bust open, to fucking explode!
Then he surprised me again, and even if it wasn't his fist, those three fingers he eased into my hole drove me over the top. I shot my load into his mouth so hard and fast it probably came out his nose. If he had performed amazingly so far, the strength of my orgasm shocked the hell out of him and he almost choked. I released a flood and he started swallowing as fast as he could. I have to hand it to the guy, he was a trooper. I couldn't think of too many of my partners who could handle my new, thicker fountains.
I gave him everything I had and he swallowed almost all of it! It was fucking great. He was fucking great. My body felt energized, I was so fucking turned on I could have made a statue shoot its wad of marble.
He was grinning as he wiped his mouth. He looked at the string of my cream on his finger and licked it off, swallowing hungrily. I shook my head slowly, disbelieving this guy had really never sucked dick before. Maybe it was genetic or something. If so, I wanted to meet this guy's whole fucking family.
Instead, I leaned forward over my still throbbing dick and kissed his lips, tasting myself inside his mouth. "Now," I said, "it's your turn." I moved toward him so he had to lean back. His dick was already engorged and red, pulsing with every beat of his athletic heart. He leaned back on his elbows, bent his knees and planted his feet on either side of my pliant and powerful body. I kissed his neck, kissed his chest, licked his nipples. I kissed his belly and he shuddered. I thought he was ready to cum and decided to try out my powers on him, to keep him on the edge, make him feel what he'd made me feel, but 100 times stronger.
I wouldn't let him cum until I was ready for him. I was a prowling cat, a super strong beast with lava in my veins and the power to make him feel better than any man had ever felt.
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