TITLE    : Dream Date
STORYID  : dream-date-3
SUMMARY  : Sometimes, our ideal date is ourselves.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-05-12
CATEGORY : gay-sex-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |michael|masturbation|masturbate|oral sex|fellate|fellatio|anus|rectum|buttocks|ass|


Every first date is an interview. I hate them. I'd much rather be looking into a handsome man's eyes and thinking about his cock in my mouth or my ass than trying to sidestep questions I don't want to answer, respond evasively to personal queries, or give half-true or noncommittal replies to interrogations that seem to address topics that I consider to intimate or delicate to discuss with a stranger (because any man, on a first date, is a stranger).



"What do you do for a living?" my date, a handsome-as-hell curly-haired brunette with brown eyes, a strong, square chin, broad shoulders, washboard abs, and an overall muscular build, asked me over the bacon and eggs we were having for breakfast.



"Teach," I said.



"Where?"



"At a small private school."



"In Nevada?"



"Uh, yeah."



"In Vegas?"



"Sometimes."



"Sometimes?"



"The school has several locations. One's in Las Vegas. Another's in Pahrump. I teach both places and at the branch in Henderson, too."



"You sound awfully busy. You sure you have time for a relationship?"



"I'm sure."



"Do you like teaching?"



A shrug. "It's all right."



"What do you teach?" As the interview continues, I begin to think that, as handsome as this guy is, maybe I made a mistake in meeting him.



"Sex education," I answer his latest question, lying.



This latest first date didn't go well. Martin (if that's his actual name) drove me home, and, even though it was only a little after noon, I had a strawberry daiquiri, relaxed in my hot tub, and took a nap. In my dreams, I envisioned what I have since come to call My Ideal First Date. This is how it unfolds:



He's blonde, like me, and as bronzed and handsome as a Greek god, with perfect facial features; a strong neck; broad shoulders; a deep chest; washboard abs; muscular arms; a sculpted back; sleek, compact buttocks; and a perfect package. He is unlike the Greek gods as they were portrayed in paint and marble only in this respect: he was circumcised. His name was Michael, and he, like me, was naked. His beautiful cock stood upright against his chiseled stomach, thick and hard and waiting above the tight pouch of his risen scrotum.



We are seated side by side on his divan. He reaches for my own erect penis, taking the rigid stalk of my manhood in his fist and giving it several quick, firm squeezes; a thrill runs down my spine and seems to explode inside my balls. I moan, and he licks the side of my face, his tongue wet and soft against my cheek and jaw. I moan again, and he begins to masturbate me, his fist riding up and down upon the taut flesh of my prick. Involuntarily, my thighs begin to spasm, and he stops, knowing that I am near the point of no return. It is too soon to permit me the sweet, intense release of orgasm and the ejaculation of my seed.



"Suck my cock," Michael orders, and I slide off the divan and kneel before my god, taking his swollen erection between my rounded lips. It has a firm, rubbery feel, but tastes of nothing. I am delighted to discover that he has perfumed his loins with cologne. I let my rounded lips slide down his shaft, feeling the sleek skin slide past until I have taken all of his magnificent cock into the warm-soft-wetness of my mouth that I can manage to engulf. It is now Michael who moans. The sound of his pleasure excites me, and I began to suck him in earnest, my head bobbing up and down, up and down, more and more rapidly as my lips pump his prick with vigor and enthusiasm. Michael groans again, and I pause to lick and kiss his rigid column of flesh before continuing to fellate him.



Michael's thighs quake, and his erection lurches and strains inside my oral embrace. His balls have risen inside his shrunken scrotum, and I know that he is near orgasm. I want to stop, to prolong his pleasure by way of allowing him to anticipate his orgasm and his ejaculation, but I am too excited, and I continue to suck him as heartily as I can, bouncing my face up and down on his crotch, all the while gently squeezing and kneading the silken flesh of his scrotum and tenderly rolling his testicles against one another inside the contracted pouch.



Even near orgasm, Michael has more presence of mind than I have, and he pulls his penis out of my mouth and away from my face, squeezing the shaft of his cock in his fist. He has prevented himself from ejaculating. I look at his lovely, hard cock, with surprise and annoyance. I was looking forward to the jets of his thick, warm, salty semen over my tongue and against the inner walls of my cheeks and the roof of my mouth. Instead of breakfasting upon the food of the gods, I am denied the divine sustenance, the nectar, of his seed.



He stepped out from in front of me. "Lean over the divan," he said, "I want to fuck you in the ass."



Delighted, I did as I'd been told, bracing my weight upon my elbows and leaning well forward, the right side of my head pressing against the back of the couch. I spread my knees as far apart as I could, and Michael positioned himself between my spread thighs. There was a moment's pause, and then I felt the tip of his glans point against the cleavage of my ass. The glans forced aside the inward-curving slopes of my derriere as Michael pressed his organ forward. The firm shaft spread my buttocks before its advance, and his penis penetrated my anus. He paused with just the glans inside my fluttering asshole, waiting for the spasms to subside before renewing his invasion of my bowels. Inch by slow inch, he fed his massive organ into my ass, the smooth column of flesh sliding between the silken globes of my smooth, creamy buttocks. Finally, he had buried his cock inside me to its very hilt, and I felt the rasp of his pubic hair against my satiny butt cheeks. He paused again, letting me anticipate the hammering he was about to give my bottom, and I felt an electric thrill inside my balls.



"I'm going to fuck you, deep and hard," he announced, and, in my mind, I pleaded with him to do just that.



I felt his huge member withdraw slowly through my impaled anus. Another pause, and then he rammed his cock home, shoving all eight inches of his massive organ through my asshole and into my bowels, cramming my ass with his thick, hard prick.



Again and again, his penis assaulted my ass, until he was fucking me violently, as if he were raping me. He slammed hard into my buttocks, before wrenching his cock back, until just the glans remained within the ring of my sphincter, and then slamming his erection through the orifice with renewed vigor, hammering my bottom mercilessly, the sleek mounds of my buttocks flattening before each thrust and bouncing back before his every momentary retreat. He was tireless, and, it seemed, immune to passion. Although I'd brought him to the verge of orgasm when I'd sucked his cock, he now seemed incapable of coming. He continued to assault my ass, his cock a fleshly piston pumping inside the cylinder of my rectum with impersonal, machine-like efficiency. I moaned with pleasure and groaned with pain. Most likely, he watched his prick appear and vanish again and again inside my impaled ass, observing the thick, hard member sliding back and forth between my buttocks and within the snug circle of my anal sphincter and studying the bouncing of my quivering, dancing ass cheeks.



Finally, after what seemed hours, even Michael could no longer deny the passion that flooded his loins, and I felt the convulsive spasms of his thighs as he shoved his cock as deep as he could inside my ass, crushing the soft-firm globes beneath his sweating belly and pressing his balls into the lower swells of my bottom. He moaned long and loud as he emptied the reservoir of his thick, warm semen into my bowels.



Afterward, as we sat naked, side by side, on the divan, and he stroked my still-stiff cock, he smiled at me for the first time, showing me his charming dimples and the whitest teeth I'd ever seen. "So," he began, "what's your name?" 

