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    Arran
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Those Cerulean Eyes - 3. Chapter 3

This chapter contains vividly described sexual activities between two young men.

EARLY SATURDAY AFTERNOON, DAY 4

I eye Mickey’s lithe body, particularly the gracious curves of his butt, as he bends over slightly, cradling the ball in his hands and focusing on the pins at the end of the lane. I keep my eyes on it as he approaches the foul line and smoothly releases the ball. Perfect form, the sexy curves of his butt captivating me even more as he nearly touches the lane with his knee and releases the ball. “It’s a strike!” he exclaims, pumping his fist as the ball curves into the pocket. It’s his third strike in five frames compared to my three spares. Needless to say, he’s creaming me, and not in the good way.

When he returns to his seat I step up to the ball return, scoop up my ball, peer down the lane at the pins, then start my delivery and release the ball. It skitters down the center, veering slightly to the right. Then it curves into the pocket. “Strike! Way to go, Mark!” Mickey exclaims as he comes up behind me and claps me on the shoulder. “You finally found the pocket!”

I turn around to find gleaming cerulean eyes gazing with excitement into my eyes. It’s like he bowled the strike, he’s so happy for me. “Thanks,” I smile, gazing back into his eyes. “Hopefully, I can keep it up.”

“You will, Mark! You found your pocket!”

After our third game, I’m feeling it in my back and shoulders. Mickey won the first game by a good margin as I expected. The score was much closer the second game and he didn’t win by much. He won the third game too, not by as much as the first game, but more than the second game. I don’t have to say anything, though. “Want to call it quits?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m feeling it in my back and my shoulders, Mickey. I know a little pub not far from here that serves great craft beers. Want to try it?”

“Sure,” he smiles.

A few blocks from the bowling alley we stop at McMenamins Ringler’s Annex. I order a porter and Mickey orders a pilsner. After we get our beers, I pick up a bowl of pretzels and we seat ourselves at a booth in an out-of-the-way corner. “You’re a good bowler,” I compliment him as we nurse our beers, occasionally nibbling a pretzel.

“You’re not so bad yourself once you find your pocket,” he smiles.

“Yeah, once I find the pocket. But finding it is the problem.”

“Well, I’ve bowled a lot more than you, Mark. Give it some time.”

“Some time?” I ask, looking into his eyes that look much darker to me in the muted light of the bar.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I’d like us to do it again.”

“Oh... okay. I’d like that, Mickey,” I smile before taking a sip of my porter.

There is a lengthy silence as we both nurse our beers before Mickey breaks it with the dreaded question. “So, do you have a girlfriend, Mark?”

I raise my porter, take a sip, then set it back down, wondering, Why that question? Is he trying to get me to admit that I have no interest in girls, only him? I don’t lift my eyes to meet his, if he’s even looking at me, awaiting my reply. “No,” I simply reply.

“That’s what I kind of thought since you’ve been spending so much of your time with me. I don’t either.” No surprise there.

I expect more, but the subject dies there, thankfully. I ponder the possible narratives that could have followed, but only one comes to mind. The reason is because I like you a lot, Mickey, in case you haven’t noticed. In fact, I lay in bed at night wanting to feel you in my arms as I make ardent, passionate love to you. Of course, I don’t say it. I just take another sip of my porter.

After another silence, not so lengthy this time, I ask, “Would you maybe like to come to my place since I’ve been to yours?”

He smiles, his eyes aglow, which I can easily see despite the muted light. “I’d love to, Mark.”

I look at my watch to see that it’s approaching 3:00 pm. “So, how about we finish our beers and go?”

He picks up his beer and downs the rest in one one gulp. I watch his throat contract as he swallows, somehow finding it sexy. Of course, I find everything that Mickey does to be sexy. I finish my porter and then we both leave the booth and head out into the late afternoon sunlight.

It’s about a mile walk to my house, which is comfortable in the afternoon warmth. Our conversation is light, probably because of the heavy moment that we had experienced in the pub when Mickey broached the dreaded question. We stop occasionally to browse store windows when we see something interesting. “I would never wear something like that,” he says as we eye a peculiar new fashion in men’s wear.

“Me, neither,” I smile, wanting to take his hand in mine. But I don’t. Instead, we walk on, continuing to browse until we leave the promenade and begin the walk to my house. A mile or so later we finally reach the neighborhood where I live.

“Is this where you live?” he asks, a tone of awe in his voice, probably because of the noticeably larger size of the homes.

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling suddenly uncomfortable because of the perceived opulence of the neighborhood.

“Wow…” he says as we walk up the driveway to the front door of the house where I live, the place that my successful parents call home. “What does your father do for a living?”

“Both parents are lawyers,” I reply. “Reintjes & Reintjes, LLP.”

“Oh… Now I can see why you want to be a lawyer.”

I unlock and open the door, usher him into the entryway and close the door behind us. “Very nice,” he says, looking around at the rich tones of the stark Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired interior.

“Yeah,” is all I say in response. While Mickey doesn’t live in squallor by any means, his home is nothing like this. I almost feel like I have to apologize for our affluence, but instead ask, “Would you like the tour?”

“Sure.”

“Would you like something to drink?” I ask as we step into the immaculate kitchen. “Like maybe another beer?”

“Sure,” he chirps.”

I open the refrigerator and remove two Leffe Bruin Belgian ales, pop off the caps and hand him a bottle.

“This is really good,” he smiles after taking a sip.

“My dad special orders it. He’s a beer connoisseur. It’s how I acquired my taste for fine beers.”

“So, where are your parents?” he asks. “Do they work on Saturdays?”

“No. They’re at the club playing tennis. My parents are very active. You can tell by looking at them. They’re both really fit and don’t look their ages. I tend to be more the slouch.”

“You’re no slouch,” he teases, playfully pinching my stomach. “At least you don’t feel it to me.”

I’m taken aback by the intimate gesture. It’s the first time that Mickey’s done something like that. It causes my hopes to surge, not to mention a stirring below. “So, would you like to see my bedroom?”

“Yeah.” He coyly smiles, his cerulean eyes seeming to be able to see into the depths of my soul as he gazes into my eyes. Oh my God! I want him so badly.

I take him upstairs and open the door that is slightly ajar to my bedroom. “So, this is it,” I say, gesturing him into the room. “This where I spend my alone time.” And where I secretly have thoughts of making love to you, Mickey.

He steps into the room and looks around. There isn’t much to see but the usual material things: TV, stereo, desk with a computer, an acoustic Taylor guitar in a stand and shelves of books. “It looks like you enjoy reading,” he says, removing The Hobbit and flipping through the pages. “I like Tolkien too.” Then he wanders over to the guitar and and gently passes his fingertips over the strings along the neck. “I assume that you play?”

“Yeah,” I smile as I carefully remove it from the stand and sling the strap over my shoulder. “It relaxes me when I’m stressed.” I fret the proper strings with my left hand and strum a C-chord that fills the room with a beautiful resonance.

“Play something,” he smiles. I fret the appropriate strings and begin to Travis pick a C/E, the first chord of the intro of the most recent song that I’ve learned.

Marry Me by Train,” he says as after I move to an Fsus2, the second chord of the intro.

“Very good, Mickey.”

Then I move to a C-chord and begin the verse.

Forever can never be long enough for me

to feel like I’ve had long enough with you.

Forget the world now, we won’t let them see

but there’s one thing left to do.”

“I love this song,” he quietly says as I head into the pre-chorus with C/E followed by Fsus2.

Now that the weight has lifted

and love has finally shifted my way.

Then I segue into the chorus with a C-chord.

Marry me,

today and every day.

Marry me,

if I ever get the nerve

to say hello in this café.

Marry me

Mmm Mmm

Marry me

Mmm Mmm

I begin the second verse which is particularly meaningful to me with respect to Mickey. Gazing into his eyes, I sing,

Together can never be close enough for me,

to feel like I am close enough to you.

You wear white, and I wear out the words

I love you, and you’re beautiful.

I see a glimmer in his eyes, telling me that maybe the verse is meaningful to him as well. I’ve never seen that look before and it stirs me. I want so much to embrace him in my arms and press my lips to his in a kiss of passionate bliss. But I don’t. Instead, I go into the pre-chorus again.

Now that the weight is over

and love has finally shown you my way.

Then I move to a Bb6sus2 and begin the bridge.

Promise me you’ll always be

happy by my side.

I promise to sing to you

when all the music die—ie—ies.

I repeat the chorus and then end the song.

“Wow… that was beautiful, Mark,” he utters in awe. “I like it even more than the original. It had… so much more feeling.”

Yes, it did, Mickey, because I was singing it to you and felt it in my heart and my soul. He must sense my thoughts because the room becomes eerily silent as we stand, gazing into one another’s eyes, his cerulean ones seeming bluer than ever to me. And then the unexpected happens when Mickey steps up to me and softly presses his lips to mine. When he pulls away I see fear in his eyes, which I quickly allay with a whispered, “I so wanted that to happen, Mickey.”

His fear immediately dissipates and he draws my lips to his again. “Wait,” I whisper. I unshoulder my guitar and place it back in its stand, then I take his hand in mine, lead him to my bed where we sit and I take him properly in my arms and we kiss again, except longer this time.

After we part, we gaze longingly into one another’s eyes. Then he smiles and whispers, “I can’t believe this is happening, Mark. I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met and so wanted for this to happen. ”

“Me too, Mickey. I was singing to you from my heart.”

“I know. It’s why I kissed you.”

I momentarily look around the room and then chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he smiles.

“Us, and how we’ve managed to dance around the obvious elephant in the room until now.”

“Yeah, but the awkwardness is gone now, so it’ll be different from now on, Mark.”

“Yeah. So this is what you want, Mickey?”

His eyes glisten as he says, “Yeah. Do you?”

I smile and kiss the tip of his nose. “Without a doubt. Did anyone ever tell you that you have the most beautiful cerulean eyes ever.”

“Cerulean?” He looks puzzled.

“Yeah," I smile. "They’re as blue as the summer sky.”

“Nobody but you, Mark.” There is a momentary silence as we just gaze at each other. Then he interrupts it with, “So, what happens now? Where do we go from here, Mark?”

“You mean now, at this moment?”

“Well, maybe not at this very moment since we’ve just really discovered each other, but in the future… like tomorrow, next week, two weeks from now…”

“Well, when the time is right, hopefully we’ll end up right here in this bed where I can fully express my feelings for you, Mickey.”

“You mean… like fuck?” Just seeing and hearing him say the word exhilarates me beyond imagination.

“Yeah,” I smile. “But I prefer to think of it as making love, Mickey, because that’s what it would truly be for me.”

“I want that too, Mark,” he whispers. Then we kiss again.

SUNDAY MORNING, DAY 5

According to plan, I pick Mickey up at 9:00 am and drive to Starbucks for our usual coffee and scone. Afterward, we head to the mountains for a planned hike and picnic in the forest, some alone time where we can get to know each other even better.

“So, does your mother know that you’re gay?” I ask as we stroll hand-in-hand along the well-travelled forest trail. The daypacks on our backs hold water, trail mix and the provisions for a light lunch that we will eat when we reach a suitable place to picnic.

“I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re asking, but I suspect that she probably knows since I never date nor bring girls to the house.”

“Hm… So I wonder what she thinks about me since you brought me home, and for dinner nonetheless? I mean, it is kind of like like bringing your boyfriend home.”

He looks wistful when he says, “Yeah, it is, except I didn’t know it at the time.

“Anyway, she hasn’t said anything about it if she does suspect, Mark. I just know that she likes you. In her words, ‘You’re a very nice, respectable young man.’” Hm… I wonder what she’d think of me if she knew that I would love nothing more than to have intercourse her son?

A few minutes later we encounter a small wooden bridge crossing a rather swiftly flowing stream. Right before the bridge I observe a faint path heading upslope along the stream. “Want to follow it for a while?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Sure. Hopefully we’ll find a nice place to be alone and eat lunch. We probably won’t find a suitable place on the main trail. To have our privacy, I mean.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Mickey. C’mon, let’s follow it.”

I lead, carefully picking my way through the brush to avoid disturbing it and leaving footprints for someone else to follow. It isn’t until we’re well away from the main trail that the path becomes less obscure and we can easily follow it upslope.

“I think it’s a deer trail,” he says.

“I think you’re right, Mickey.”

About twenty minutes later I hear what might be the sound of a waterfall. It’s hard to be certain because of the babble of the creek beside us. A few minutes later the brush and trees open up to a clearing exposing a series of cascading small waterfalls that tumble down a stairway of rock that begins about fifty feet above us and spill into a pool at the bottom.

“Wow…” he gasps. “It’s… breathtaking. Absolutely idyllic, Mark.”

“It’s definitely our destination,” I reply, looking around for a place to sit and have lunch. Eyeing a level area beneath a large fir tree several feet away, I take Mickey’s hand in mine and lead him towards it. Then we settle onto the ground, our backs against the tree, and silently take in the scene before us.

“We couldn’t have found a nicer place,” he says. “It’s so… incredibly romantic.”

“It is, Mickey. Our own little eden,” I smile, gazing into his glistening cerulean eyes as I rest his hand on my thigh. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“It’s already happened for me, Mark,” he smiles. “I have so many wonderful things going on inside me right now. Kiss me.”

Actually, I’d like us to do more than just kiss right now. More than anything I’d like our first time making love to be here in this idyllic setting. I look at the ground around us and see that the countless pebbles and all the tree debris would make that very uncomfortable. Then I think more about it. Actually, I’d like our first time making love to be somewhere more comfortable and more intimate, like in my bed, or in his bed. And to be realistic, I don’t know if Mickey is even ready for intercourse yet.

I turn my body towards his, then slip my hands around his back, drawing him against me, and press my mouth to his. Within seconds I pry my tongue between his lips, gaining entry to the wet warmth of his mouth and find his tongue. He swirls it around mine, and I feel myself begin to harden. Then I feel his hand creep, slowly, cautiously up my thigh and rest upon my cock which is totally rigid now. He alternates flexing it and rubbing his hand over it. Then I feel his fingers pop the button of my Levis and ease down the zipper.

Oh my God… I so want this to happen…

Before I know it, Mickey has my Levis open and he’s slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of my briefs. I feel them cautiously touch me, then circle my cock and squeeze it. I couldn’t possibly be any harder. “Take it out for me, Mark.”

I lift my butt and tug at my Levis and briefs until my cock springs free, then lower my butt back onto the ground, pull him to me again and bury my face into the hollow of his neck. “Oh my God… It’s beautiful, Mark,” he whispers in awed reverence as he circles it with his fingers. “It’s so hard… and so big… I can feel it throb. How big is it?”

I pull my face away from his neck and look down to where his fingers surround my cock. “I’ve never measured it, but I’m guessing it to be somewhere around eight inches, Mickey.”

“Well, it certainly looks all of that,” he smiles. I’ve never been more proud of my cock, knowing that Mickey is delighted with it. Other times I had thought that it might be too much, too daunting for a partner to comfortably take up inside him, but not my dear Mickey. It’s prodigious length just excites him all the more. And while it’s quite long—longer than what most guys have to brag about—it’s not daunting in girth, but sleek like a torpedo with a glans that’s about an inch and a half long, plenty of sensitivity to easily get me to cum without belaboring the duration of intercourse. And according to my last partner, it packed quite a punch because it was able to reach deep inside him when it delivered its charge. And it nearly always stimulated him enough to get him to cum as well.

Yes, I’m definitely proud of what I have.

I focus my eyes on the veils of water cascading down the steps of the rock outcropping when I feel a sudden, surprising warmth envelop my cock. I look down to see that Mickey has just taken me into his mouth. “Oh my God…” I gasp as I feel his wet lips slide slowly up and down the length of my throbbing, rigid cock. “Oh, my God, Mickey… Yes…”

My God! I can’t believe what he’s doing to me and how good it feels. Mickey definitely has a gift for sucking. I can only imagine that, when the time comes, his anus will feel even better around my cock than his mouth, and that he’ll fuck at least as good as he sucks.

It doesn’t take very long before he has me on the brink of orgasm. “Mickey!” I gasp. “I’m getting close… really close…” But he ignores me, intensifying his suction and quickening the motion of his lips around me until I cry out, “OH MY GOD!” as I ejaculate my seed hard into his mouth again and again until I have nothing left to give. It’s then that he pulls off of my cock, looks up into my eyes and smiles, vestiges of my semen leaking from the corners of his mouth.

If I only had a camera…

“So I guess you liked it, huh, Mark,” he smiles, cerulean eyes glistening with pride.

“Oh, wow… Did I ever, Mickey. I didn’t expect you take it, though, much less swallow. What did you think?”

“You cum hard, Mark,” he smiles. “And you cum a lot. I wasn’t sure that I could swallow fast enough, but I did, and your sperm tastes good.” Then he moves up to face me and whispers, “I can only imagine what it’s going to feel like when you shoot inside me like that.” Obviously, he has no expectation that I wear a condom, which suits me just fine.

“It’ll happen soon enough, Mickey,” I smile seeing the playful twinkle in his eyes, “because I want that as much as you do.”

When he pulls away, I move between his legs, saying, “One good turn deserves another,” as I unbutton and unzip his jeans, then yank them and his briefs down far enough to get at his cock.

“Wow, you certainly don’t have anything to be ashamed of, Mickey,” I smile, gazing up into his eyes as I grip his hard cock. It has to be at least six inches long and a little bigger in girth than mine. He just smiles as I lower my mouth over it and begin sucking as I masturbate it with my lips.

“Oh yeah… Oh my God…” he pants as he thrusts up into my mouth. I love that I’m able to make him feel good, so I pull off and start teasing his glans with the tip of my tongue between strokes. I can quickly see by his writhing and squirming that he isn’t used to what I’m doing to him, so I don’t expect him to last long. My God! I can’t even begin to imagine what he’ll be like when I have the full length of my cock buried deep into his body, making sweet, passionate love to him.

And then even sooner than I anticipate, it happens. “Oh God! I’m gonna cum, Mark!”

I intensify my suction and the speed of my strokes, feeling his cock expanding in my mouth. And then he’s there. “Oh my God…” he gasps as he shoots hard into my mouth. I barely swallow before he shoots again, then again, a veritable fountain of semen, until he’s finally spent.

“Oh, wow…” he pants. “That was awesome, Mark. I’ve never cum so hard in my life as I just did now.”

I run my tongue around my mouth, tasting his semen, then smile. “I’m glad that I could make you feel so good, Mickey. It’s really important to me.”

“Oh my God, I love you so much, Mark.”

Hearing that makes my heart swell with joy. Mickey and I have known each other less than a week and we’ve already developed strong feelings for one another. And after what just happened, I feel that we’re ready to take our fledgling relationship to a whole new level of intimacy. And with my parents flying to Boston tomorrow morning for a conference, I have the house to myself for a week, a perfect opportunity for Mickey and I to have some needed alone time together. I’ll invite him to come home with me tomorrow after classes, and if things go as I hope they will, we’ll end up in bed where Mickey will lose his vIrginity, to me, and we’ll make love until we’re exhausted. And maybe he would even be willing to spend the night.

Apparently Mickey is one step ahead of me, though. “You know… I just so happen to have tomorrow off at the bookstore, Mark. One of the guys asked me to change with him this week, so he’s working for me on Monday and I’m working for him on Wednesday. So I’m wondering, could you maybe get your friend Jimmy to switch with you to give you tomorrow off too and we could spend some alone time together at my place after classes? We’d have a couple of hours until my mom comes home.”

Damn! I hadn’t considered that I have to work tomorrow. Could I get Jimmy to switch with me?

I decide not to reveal what I have in mind, however, in case things don’t work out with Jimmy. “I can ask him,” I reply. “I’ll call him when I get home.”

After we clean up, I rummage through my daypack for the ham sandwiches and Gatorades that I’d packed for us this morning and then we enjoy our lunches to the sight and sounds of the lovely waterfall before us. It is contemplative with little said between us.

“Well, we should probably go, since we have better than an hour hike back to the car,” I say after we finish.

Mickey sighs. “Yeah, although I hate to leave this place. A very wonderful thing happened here, Mark. Not only did I have sex for the first time ever, but it’s where I might have fallen in love with a really special guy.”

I turn to him, press my lips to his in a kiss, then smile. “We’ll come back, Mickey. We’ll come back as often as you want because it’s our special place.”

We stow our refuse in our packs and then Mickey leads the way down the path back to the trail, my eyes fixed on the sexy sway of his butt that I hope to enjoy for the very first time tomorrow afternoon in my bed. Assuming that I can get Jimmy to cover for me at work.

Thanks for reading. I hope you like it. The story cover depicts the waterfall that they encountered during their hike.
Copyright © 2019 Arran; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

4 minutes ago, Wesley8890 said:

I love this story and the slowness of it too! To often do I see a story that rushes straight into a relationship and into the bed. You've got the perfect place.

Quote

Mickey and I have known each other less than a week and we’ve already developed strong feelings for one another.

Three chapters and less than a week (in story time) is not rushing?
;–)

22 hours ago, droughtquake said:

Three chapters and less than a week (in story time) is not rushing?
;–)

My personal opinion says no. Given the techno and app driven environments of the present, these guys have exceeded all expectations of real quality time; hours and hours of face time ( without iPhones or apple 🍏 devices), so giving credit where it truly is due they haven’t rushed at all.

Sex doesn’t imply nor secure a lifetime commitment of a relationship, nor does getting to know each other better before having sex help insure a satisfactory sex drive or performance. The old fashioned abstinence until marriage insures nothing but surprises that are not always good. But that’s just my informed opinion. 🤷‍♂️

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10 hours ago, Philippe said:

My personal opinion says no. Given the techno and app driven environments of the present, these guys have exceeded all expectations of real quality time; hours and hours of face time ( without iPhones or apple 🍏 devices), so giving credit where it truly is due they haven’t rushed at all.

Sex doesn’t imply nor secure a lifetime commitment of a relationship, nor does getting to know each other better before having sex help insure a satisfactory sex drive or performance. The old fashioned abstinence until marriage insures nothing but surprises that are not always good. But that’s just my informed opinion. 🤷‍♂️

Thanks for the comment, Philippe.

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