On a Scavenger Hunt - 1. Chapter 1

"Wake up, Beautiful... it's time to wake up, Xander..."

I can hear him; hear his voice in my dream as he whispers above me, his fingers tenderly caressing my cheek and combing my hair; but my mind is still hanging to the foggy world of sleep, not completely aware of what is happening.

Kisses -- sweet, delicate kisses on my nape as gentle hands stroke my sides; his warm, rich voice whispering again -- "Wake up, sweetie" -- and his fingers beginning to graze my erect organ as I hear myself moaning. At least, I think it is me; the only tangible thing I am really becoming aware of is the delicious ache that grows in my member.

"Come on, Xander, wake up, love," I hear him speak yet again. I think he's asking for me to wake up. I groan as he removes his fingers from my sensitive organ and rubs my arm. With formidable effort, my eyes flutter open only to lose themselves into the clear blue pools of my lover’s gaze.

"Whattayoodooinhere?" I sleepily mumble as my eyes flutter close and open again. It's hard to keep them this way.

Julian quietly laughs. "You're too cute with that hazy look in your eyes and your hair all tousled."

I groggily smile back, thinking that my hair isn't usually half as disheveled as his is when he wakes up, but don't point it out to him; instead, I eye his "curly, sheep hair" and he laughs at me again.

"Aryoogointoofinishmee?" I ask, squeezing my pillow and digging my head into its cozy softness as I indicate with a brief, downward glance, my half engorged member, partly resting on my thigh.

My boyfriend grins at me with a hint of mischief; he is lying on his side, his weight leaning on his elbow and his head resting on his fist, gazing at me with his so-transparent, blue eyes. He smells good and fresh, and he looks rather handsome with his damp blond locks clinging to his head; he would have looked even more beautiful if he hadn't bothered to put on clothes, though: he's got a gorgeous body, well-toned and athletic, that the African sun has doubtlessly bronzed over the past few weeks, from what I can see of the healthy golden complexion his face is glowing with.

"Would you like me to?" he asks. He's being silly, as usual; Julian loves to tease, and tease me in particular.

I give him a lazy grin and nod 'yes' into my pillow. "Please."

I watch the hand that he had placed down between us on the bed sheet as it slides closer to my tumescent member and, as soon as I feel his fingers on my hot organ, I close my eyes and breathe in deeply.

"I missed you," he tells me in a low, sultry voice.

I missed you too, my mind replies; I am yet unable to speak out the words as I bite my lower lip in sweet agony and groan instead, squeezing my pillow closely. "Please," I manage to beg, "Julian--" I need him to grasp me and jerk me off more roughly than he is with these agonizingly light strokes of his -- but he doesn't. He lets his fingers leisurely roam in smooth and featherlike touches, tracing looping patterns from the base of my shaft and upward.

"I missed the way you say my name when you're all hot," he continues lustily, skillfully dragging out the ecstasy into the sweetest misery. He's not usually that teasing, and I find myself getting frustrated at this role reversal: I'm normally the cock tease in our relationship, not he.

Aching with need, I roll onto my back and splay my legs open, raising my pelvis up and clawing the sheets beneath me. "Please, Jules--" I plead, tilting my head backwards and arching my back as I feel his teasing fingers play with the beaded piercing on my foreskin and caress the rim of my leaking member. He had been very hesitant with the piercing when he'd discovered I possessed one on my shaft -- something about having a sharp piece of metal pierced so close to my glands that seemed pretty scary -- and his touches had been very timid in the beginning; he'd shortly come to realize, nonetheless, that he could use it to bring tingling and vivid little thrills from my organ throughout my body, and he'd overcome his reservations on the matter. Piercings were neat, even if he'd never agree to get one himself: he says he'd rather play with mine.

"I missed the way you beg me when you're all hot and bothered," Julian growls, his voice huskily veiled with desire. His fingers leave my piercing and move up to the partially exposed head of my tumescent member to graze the small, sensitive, tear-drop slit trickling with droplets of translucent precome, his teasing becoming intolerable. I'm about to plead again when, finally, my boyfriend takes pity on me and I feel his hand close onto my turgid organ. He begins to jack me, his rhythm a bit rough and jerky because of the absence of lube to grease my tool, but the feeling still exhilarating, and I cannot prevent the pathetic whimper that escapes my lips.

"God I've missed the way you whimper when you're so close to coming," he whispers as he nuzzles my sensitive ear and grazes the even more sensitive side of my neck with his lips; a feathery touch on them has never failed to get me in the mood for sex, and so, a second later, I can't help prematurely exploding in the intensity of overpowering bliss and feelings of thrill, spilling my cum all over my abdomen and chest.

His fingers on my deflating organ now feel painful more than anything else, and I instinctively remove his hand from my member as I sway between the world of consciousness and unconsciousness, a few waves of post-orgasmic bliss still flowing through me and leaving me trembling. Julian's fingers comb my hair as he waits till I finish quivering, and when my ragged breathing has slowed back to normal, he leans down and kisses my forehead. "I'll be right back," he tells me, stroking the side of my face before I feel him moving off the bed. A moment later, the weight of his body indents the mattress again and he is back besides me, wiping my sensitive organ and my smooth chest of my cum with a soft and pleasantly warm hand towel. He must have wet only a corner of it because seconds later, he is drying me with it. I open my eyes and peer into the so clear blue pools of his gaze.

"I missed you, too," I answer him, now that I am more coherent and able to speak, albeit still a bit breathless, but smiling, content. "When did you come?"

"At two this morning," he answers, taking a moment to place the hand towel down on the floor on his side of the bed. "Come here," he then tells me as he backs up against the bed pillows into a sitting position and pulls me between his legs. He tenderly nuzzles my ear, and as I feel completely sated, the gesture now is more comforting than erotic.

"How were you able to get back three days before the initial date?" I inquire, relaxing in his embrace and resting my head on shoulder.

Julian presses his cheek against the side of my face. "We managed to get ahead on the schedule," he tells me, "and I sweet-talked the woman at the airline into changing my return date." I can hear the laughter in his voice as he makes his confession.

I grin and place my arm over his, which is wrapped around my middle, pressing me closely against his body. "I'm happy you're back." He had been offered a six-month position in West Africa, in the southeast, forest-covered lands of Guinea, which he'd eagerly agreed to. He'd felt it would offer an interesting experience in his beginning career and had seized the opportunity.

I, had been a lot less enthusiastic when, besides his leaving for a tremendous amount of time, I'd discovered that the land he was setting off to prospect -- Julian is a geologist -- is enclosed between three other African countries, Sierra Leone, Ivory Coast and Liberia, the three having gone through recent civil wars. But Julian had claimed that things in these neighboring nations had settled down, and had insisted that, anyway, in the middle of the wild, there would be nobody but the geology crew present... and perhaps a few monkeys, he'd teasingly added.

Three weeks later, he'd boarded an Air France plane for Dakar, Senegal, another West African country bordering Guinea, and from there, he'd taken a charter flight to Conakry, Guinea's capital city. I still had had some apprehensions about his traveling to a politically insecure area of the globe, but my boyfriend had seemed to think of it as an exciting experience he'd be crazy to refuse, so I'd kept my fears to myself because I knew I'd be offended if Julian ever tried to stop me from advancing in my own career.

"Tell me about Guinea," I ask, my fears gone now that he is back with me. "What did you see when you were there?"

"Except for the geology crew?" Julian teasingly asks back. "Lots of monkeys," he chuckles, and I roll my eyes. "No, honestly, we did see lots of monkeys," he answers again as he kisses my temple and reaches over for the table on his side of the bed where I notice a bowl of red strawberries and fresh cream besides it. My eyes widen.

"How the heck did you get those!" I exclaim, amazed. We were in October and strawberries were definitely out of season.

He quietly laughs as he swirls the round tip of one into the white cream and brings it to my lips.

"You're too sweet, Julian," I tell him before biting into the red fruit he is presenting me with.

"Anything for you, Xander," he answers with a light bite on my ear, sending a brief tingling sensation through me, and pressing me even closer to his body. "Happy two-year anniversary."

I tilt my head back and place a hand on his nape, bringing his lips over my mouth into a sweet, sensual kiss; I capture his lower lip between my own, smoothly caressing it as I feel his tongue on my trapped upper lip, seeking entrance. With his arm placed on my shoulder and his other hand cupping my face, he maneuvers me around so that my side is to his chest, before he presses me down backwards with his bodyweight, settling between my legs as I wrap them around his back, resting my head on the edge of the mattress, falling slightly backwards.

My length is trapped between our bodies, but having come a few minutes earlier, I am not really getting hard; I simply savor the weight of him on me as his skillful tongue slips between my lips and dances with mine. I slip my hands under his tunic shirt to caress his sides and the lean, athletic musculature of his back as he, too, begins to slide his hands all over me, roaming them on my arms, sides, and legs as his mouth tears away from my lips and leaves a trail of wet kisses down my throat, over my Adam's apple, and to the hollow at the base of my neck, licking, nibbling and reddening my skin. I tilt my head back and let out a sigh of contentment as I slip my hands back out of his tunic and brush his still damp curls with my fingers. His tongue on my chest is playing with my nipples, but I am feeling too sated to get fully erect again so soon; on the other hand, I can feel a hardening bulge swelling in his midsection so I bring down one hand and manage to slip it between our two bodies to caress his growing shaft.

"Would you like me to take care of this?" I impishly ask, stroking his swell for emphasis.

Julian tears away his mouth from my left nipple and deposits a few more wet kisses on my chest before he looks up at me, his blue eyes gleaming, as he pulls my hand away from his tool and tranquilly answers: "Not really."

I think the frown on my face has to be rather obvious as he immediately tries to explain: "You'll get late if we start anything, or you'll have to skip breakfast, and I want to feed you those strawberries."

I laugh and roll my eyes at him: "Julian!" I scold, "Who cares if I'm late!" I'd be a fool to waste any second of the twelve days he has off. Being stuck in the middle of the wild for six weeks straight and working without any days off, the geologists got their weekends back all together at the end of those forty-eight days of intensive work. Twelve days of freedom before he had to get back to Guinea again for another six long weeks.

"I do," Julian protests as he buries his head in the crook of my neck and kisses my shoulder. "You're still getting off at two, right?"

"Mm hmm," I hum affirmatively as I comb my fingers through his damp locks. Despite the fact we are both geologists, I work in a completely different branch than Julian does; whereas my boyfriend prospects the Earth, I prospect the stars. I prospect life on other planets. I work for NASA. And because of the connection of my job with the stars, the planets, and hence, nighttime, my hours aren't the usual and rigid eight to six everyday.

"No more fooling around, then!" Julian declares as he stops with his kisses and sits back up, pulling me back between his legs.

"I think I'll call in sick today," I think out loud, speaking more to myself than my boyfriend.

"Don't," Julian objects and I turn to my side to look at him funny. He's been sending me mixed signals between his extremely sweet and touching gesture, bringing me out-of-season strawberries to feed them to me for breakfast, and his exasperating determination to not fool around with me, or more precisely, not to let me fool around with him. I would accuse my boyfriend of having something to apologize for if he wasn't looking straight at me with his clear blue, steady gaze, peering deep into my own chocolate eyes. Nobody guilty would stare into their lover's eyes with such intensity.

"Come straight to the park when you get off," he tells me before he leans down onto me and covers my mouth with his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. "We'll picnic," he adds, when he pulls back a second later. I shake myself and push aside any ideas about my boyfriend, feeling guilty for thinking he could have cheated on me... let alone, in the wild in the middle of nowhere!

"Can't we go to your place instead?" I ask, "We won't be able to fool around in the park!"

Julian laughs at me. "I'd forgotten how insatiable you were!"

"I thought you'd miss me," I pout.

"I did! I missed you incredibly!" Julian protests as he wraps both his arm around me and tightly presses me against his chest, his cheek resting against the top of my head. "I've missed you more than I can tell you. We'd be flying in the chopper, or going around to map the place, and you'd pop into my thoughts; I'd be thinking 'Xander would love to see this' or 'do that'. We'd be talking, with the other geologists, and I'd constantly mention you: 'Xander and me, this' or 'my friend and I, that' -- you were always present."

I can't help the way my mouth curls into a pleased and flattered grin as I hear my boyfriend tell me the way he'd missed me. "I missed you too, Jules," I tell him, relishing the fond closeness of his embrace. Julian is very cuddly by nature, yet his embrace seems more demanding, pressing me so tightly to his body, engulfing me with his arms. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

"I missed your presence," I continue, rubbing my cheek against his jaw, "I missed your touch, your voice, and I missed talking to you." I'd missed his way of looking at me, too: there'd always been a laughing sparkle in his gleaming eyes and desire underneath, making me feel so attractive and desirable. Today, that twinkling spark and lustful desire seem to be glimmering even more, and beneath them, searching into his clear, transparent blue eyes, I can see love radiating intensely to the point where it becomes nearly overwhelming.

"I love you," I tell him, still gazing into the hypnotic transparency of his stare. His lusty eyes turn to pure hunger in seconds.

I guess he'd been waiting. Waiting for me to tell him I love him back, although we have often told each other how we love each other: I love his "curly, sheep hair", and he loves the way I can't cook; I love our picnics in the park, he loves my smaller, leaner frame, just as I love his tenderness and he loves my adventurous side;"'love you" has even been fairly frequent between the two of us -- I wouldn't be able to count the times he'd told me "Gotta love you, Xan, you're too cute for your own good" or I telling him "Oh, sweet -- love you Julian, you're the best!"

A complete, simple "I love you", just for you, on the other hand, has been a unique occurrence.

The day Julian left for West Africa, after we had checked in his bags for the Air France flight to Senegal, he'd turned to me, looking at me with his usual sparkling, laughing eyes, and had asked me to take a risk.

"Take a risk", like that, out of the blue. I think my confusion had been clear because he was repeating his words seconds later, stressing them meaningfully -- "Take a risk".

"Are you daring me?" I'd asked back mischievously. A particular 'risk' had popped in my head that second, one I found brilliantly inspired. I'd lifted myself on my toes to reach up Julian's six-feet-one frame and placed my lips on his for a long, sweet and gentle kiss, right there, for anyone to see, in the middle of this big airport. While we held hands and even occasionally cuddled in public, we usually restrained from fiery kisses, and especially French ones. Common sense had me keeping certain things to more appropriate places when I didn't want to see other people -- hetero or gay -- doing these very things in places I deemed inappropriate. Stealing a few kisses at the park or dirty dancing in a nightclub is very different from sloppily eating each other's faces in the middle of a busy street, bakery or market.

Conversely, expressing your feelings to a lover at the airport, even with a keen, ardent kiss, I felt was totally warranted, despite the kids tagging along their parents; but airports were the place of partings and reunions, and these kids would see other people than us expressing their feelings in similar ways.

Julian had taken a second to respond, but before long, he'd wrapped his arms around me as I'd pressed my body closely against his. He'd kept it sweet and gentle, and at length he'd torn his mouth away from mine with a sigh.

"I'll miss you," I had softly spoken, enjoying his fingers combing through my short hair, my head resting on his chest.

Julian had leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "I love you," he'd said.

I feel bad to say, I didn't believe him.

It's not that I thought we were a fling. After basically two years of steady dating, the exchange of our apartment keys, the three or four holiday plans we had made together, I knew Julian had feelings for me. I knew he did love me. I loved him too. But there is love and love. Friend love. Brother love. Sister love. Family love. Pet love. Julian's love was as real as any of these -- he loved my antics, he loved the way I couldn't cook, he loved my need to constantly explore new things, he loved my smaller, leaner frame, he loved cuddling, petting, and fucking me, spilling his seed deep in me -- and had he told me any other day before that he loved me, I'd have believed him; but right now, Julian was leaving. Not for a week, not even a month -- but six of them. Twenty-six weeks. One hundred and eighty-three days. With a possibility of a contract renewal at the end of their first, depending on the outcomes of prospects. With a possibility of losing what we had if he agreed. I sincerely believe it were these fears that had pushed Julian to tell me he loved me.

I'd raised my head off his chest and had peered into his clear, blue eyes as he'd gazed back into mine.

"Thank you," I'd answered. Thank you for your fears of losing me, thank you for needing me, thank you for loving the thing we have together...

Julian had leaned down and placed his lips over mine again for another sweet and gentle kiss. He'd seemed to accept the fact I wouldn't tell him that I, too, loved him -- those fears of losing him were inhibiting me: if I professed my love to him then, my heart would break into pieces if we split after a few weeks because of the strain of this too long separation.

These three little words "I love you", however, had now come easily. I guess that these six months broken into a series of six weeks followed by twelve days of holidays during which he could come back home were bearable and my worries concerning the possibility that we'd end up separating had lessened. I'd come to realize, too, after Julian had left, that I really do love him. Profoundly. And telling him so felt completely natural.

I hadn't expected them to trigger the rush of lust in his eyes, however, and seeing such blatant hunger in them makes me feel utterly desirable, his intense way of gazing at me with glazed eyes promptly setting me back in the mood for sex. I can feel myself growing semi-hard between our bodies as Julian places his soft lips over mine for a deep, wet kiss, snaking his tongue into my mouth, and roams his hands again all over my body.

With my legs still wrapped around his back, I press him down onto me, feeling the whole of his weight crushing me beneath him, combing my fingers through his locks and caressing his nape before coming into contact with the white cotton fabric of his tunic. Needing to feel his skin against mine, I slide my hands down to his sides and grab the hem of the garment, slipping it off his body with a little bit of my lover’s help who momentarily lifts his chest and pulls his avid lips off mine.

"The pants too," I grunt in a semi-whisper when he painfully thrusts his hips against my tool, slipping my hands between our bodies to unzip his jeans and pet his swelling shaft with my fingers. I feel his hands on my legs a second after, caressing the sensitive skin up and down with his hands as he detaches them from his back and pushes them down wide open, my hard organ pointing towards the ceiling. With his lips on my smooth chest, leaving a trail of very wet kisses, he descends further down, rendering me a whimpering mess as he bypasses my dripping organ and kisses the inner part of my left leg.

"Fuck me," I moan, "Please, Julian -- I need you in me!" I reach over the bedside table and pull the top drawer open searching for the tube of lube. Damn thing is always hiding between the hand towels! Julian, who's pulled down his jeans in the meantime, lies back on top of me and places his lips over mine, kissing me ardently as he calmly reaches over to the drawer and effectively pulls out the lube seconds later. Not that he seems in a hurry to use it: he doesn't even uncap the tube.

Who cares. We'll do without it -- my boyfriend is a leaker anyway; he always drips a lot more precome than I do. Natural lubrication ought to do. Obviously, I'm not thinking quite clearly, but my body seems to be ablaze in the fusion of all the thrilling feelings that Julian is giving me, his hot, electric skin rubbing against mine, the feeling of pure ecstasy as his drooling member rocks against my own -- I feel too light-headed to have any coherent form of thought other than sex with Julian in my head.

"Just fuck me, please Julian, I need you -- forget the lube just --"

"--God I love when you get this way, so eager to get fucked you lose control!"

Oh yes, he would enjoy to see me lose control -- I do it so rarely! That's because I'm usually the one in charge, and Julian is always playfully teasing me about being the greatest cock-tease he's ever been in bed with. Not that he objects or criticizes: he tells me he's never known better lover than me. That's another thing I love about my boyfriend: he makes me feel so lovable and desirable.

"Please Julian," I beg with a whimpering voice, "I need you! Please just shove it in!" His lips and his tongue feel terrific on my chest but other places in me are burning for his touch.

"You know I wouldn't," he tells me reasonably, making me completely crazy as he lavishes the hard nub of my nipple with his expert tongue. He takes pity on me, though, and seconds later, I feel his body rise off me as he leans forward and kisses me briefly, before he pulls away.

"Let me help," I tell him, sitting up and coming to face with his dripping organ. Julian uncaps the tube and pours a little lube in my open palm, watching me as I warm up the cool gel.

"You're so beautiful," I tell him, speaking the words softly as I look at the magnificent shaft and the glistening, half-exposed head before me, the foreskin being partly retracted. Holding his length by the base, I place a gentle kiss over his slit before proceeding to pet his erect tool with my two slick hands, staring into his two blue eyes as I do. Julian's gaze is glazed with lust and desire.

"You're so hot," he growls before he leans down and kisses me on the lips, then presses me back onto the bed. I fall onto my elbows, my body completely exposed to him as I lay back in the tangled bedcovers, my boyfriend kneeing between my legs and towering over me. I watch as he lets his burning eyes travel all over my body, drinking in their caress as I feel utterly desired by my lover. His hands come on my sides and begin to stroke them, his thumbs grazing the skin of my abdomen on each side of my stiff and dripping member, before he grips my hips and pulls me towards him, onto his lap, so that my bottom is now elevated. I watch him uncap the tube and pour a liberal amount into his palm that he warms up, rubbing his hands together.

I moan and bite my lips, gripping the sheets in excruciating bliss as Julian's fingers stroke the entrance of my chute. Tracing decreasing circles around my pucker, brushing my sac every now and then, he teases me until his finger is right over its target, and keeping a rotating movement, he slowly begins to slip the tip of it in me.

I whimper. Getting his fingers past my ring is the trickiest part at this stage: despite our two-year relationship, I have remained still very tight and penetration is always a bit delicate. I actually think that the twinge of pain that accompanies it colors our lovemaking and not in a bad way; yet being very sensitive, an overdose of pain can come fairly rapidly, and I'm not very keen on SM sex.

Julian is an excellent lover nonetheless and he knows how to prepare me, even against my "better judgment". The reason he would never "shove it in" as I so explicitly begged him to is because of what happened, four month after we hooked up together, when, too eager to have sex with him, I begged him to "ram it home".

I would have described it as a silly demand if the words "incredibly stupid" weren't a more correct term. I guess I hadn't been thinking. I can get easily carried away when I lose control. That's why I usually try hard to be the one in charge. In any case, Julian obliged, and after minimal stretching, he rammed it home. Now Julian is a big boy. If you see what I mean. Long. And thick. I screamed in pain, ending right then and there the evening's fun. Julian was extremely sorry, but not as much as I was. I really had been an idiot. My boyfriend doesn't take my word anymore when I tell him I'm ready. He says he's got to get three fingers in me or no sex. It's okay. I guess he cares about me and doesn't want to hurt me. Julian's a very caring lover.

"Now, Julian!" I plead as he wriggles a third finger into me. I grunt as it stretches me still further.

"Soon, Xander," he answers, his voice strained with lust and desire. "Lemme just stretch you some more before I do... God you look so hot!"

I can only moan back as his fingers snaking and twisting in me make me tremble with ecstasy, especially when Julian pulls them down on my ring, stretching it as far as possible. He usually avoids caressing my prostate and concentrates more on my sphincter as I would come way before time if he paid too special attention to the small, hard nut in my chute.

"Get ready, babe," my lover finally tells me and I groan as he pulls out his fingers from my pucker and places his rock hard member at my opening, Thanks to the length of his member and our heights' difference, he is able kiss me even as he pushes into me. I moan, feeling the pressure on my exposed and vulnerable rosebud as Julian's huge, slick, plum head slowly wedges into me, my ring stretching widely to accommodate the enormous knot forcing its way through my protective muscle.

I tear my mouth away from Julian's and bite my lips, throwing my head back and tightly wrapping my arms around my boyfriend as he nuzzles my jaw-line and deposits soft, wet kisses on the underside. "The head's nearly there, sweetie," he whispers against my skin, encouraging me, "Just open a little bit more for me and..." He cuts himself short, groaning as my ring finally yields, the large head of his shaft breaching through the muscle, making me whimper in sweet misery. "Oh yesss, Xander," he hisses, "That feels good! You're ssooo tight! Even more than usual." He grunts again, but doesn't push any further, letting me get used to his massive intrusion with small and gentle, encouraging kisses all over my face.

"It has been six weeks, Jules," I manage to answer after a few moments, whispering in his ear with a strained voice, "Six long weeks without a proper fucking."

Raising only the top part of his chest up so he can see me better, Julian raises an inquisitive eyebrow at me.

"What?" I ask with a weary grin.

"Are you telling me you haven't been pleasuring yourself there during all of those six weeks?"

"Mmm hmm," I nod, pulling his weight back down onto my lean and slender body, one hand playing with his blond locks while the other strokes his back. I truthfully hadn’t played with my rosebud these past six weeks, masturbating my member only. "It's not the easiest part of my body to reach so I figured I'd wait for you," I murmur in his ear, my cheek against his. "Nothing can replace you and my fingers don't measure to your cock -- you're so big and so thick, Julian!"

The hunger in Julian's already glazed eyes intensifies. "You're so hot, Xan," he tells me before covering my lips with his and snaking his tongue into my mouth, his hands sliding up and down my sides and my legs.

"Give me more, Julian," I moan between his fiery kisses. He obliges and starts pressing a massive inch into me that feel more like two or three, filling me slowly with his tool until I whimper. I'm always okay with the first one, one and a half inches, but afterwards, the angle of penetration is such that it becomes excruciatingly too sweet to tolerate long. I think it has to do with my rectum twisting within me and the pressure applied to those curves.

I wriggle my hips a little beneath Julian as he waits with a strained expression on his face till I can get a better angle and stop my shifting. And hopefully, as soon as possible, as my wriggling, added to the stranglehold of my tight ring on his huge shaft, has great effects on him -- very fortunately, nonetheless, my lover can hold out rather long; I'm the one who usually ends up spilling my seed first -- and generally two or three times per lovemaking, although after the two initial orgasms, the ones that follow are normally dry.

"Go," I tell Julian when the angle seems better. My boyfriend grins at me and rocks his hips forward, kissing the side of my neck.

"Wait, wait!" I grunt, impulsively gripping the hair I had been playing with between my fingers.

Julian stills himself as he lets out a groan before he grabs my wrist and pulls it off his locks. I wriggle some more beneath his body as he patiently waits again for me to finish.

"You ready?" he asks raggedly when I stop moving.

I nod my head yes. "Just... go slow, please."

Julian gives me a strained smile, his gaze still very lustful nonetheless. "Six weeks and you turn into a tight virgin again," he huskily teases me, staring straight into my eyes. I feel my cheeks grow hot. Virgins may be a turn-on for many men, I still don't appreciate being compared to one: I'd been one for too long, losing my virginity only at the late and humiliating age of twenty-three years. "Don't feel embarrassed, Xander," Julian soothes, bringing my wrist to his lips and kissing me there, "I feel honored of the privilege to pick your cherry -- you're ssssooooo tight!"

I crack a timid smile at him, feeling a warm rush of love through my body. "I'm ready now," I tell him.

Julian continues to stare into my chocolate eyes, kissing my wrist again. He leaves a trail of small kisses all inside my forearm, teasing my nipple with his other hand, before he leans over me and covers my lips with his. I feel him press again into me, his large tool forcing its way deep into my chute. The vice-like grip of my ring, as tight as it is, cannot compare to the strength of his massive tool as he wedges himself always further into me. Being the caring lover that he is, however, Julian repeatedly stops at every inch he has filled me with, letting me adjust to the increasingly full feeling that overwhelms me.

"A few more inches and I'll be all in," he whispers against my mouth and I grunt.

"It feels like you've gotten bigger," I moan back.

"Maybe," Julian responds, kissing my parted lips, "Not being able to get release as often as normally during those six weeks has made me so hot for you!"

I bite my lip and whimper as he feeds my overstretched pucker another thick inch of his rock hard shaft. Maybe Julian really has gotten bigger -- he feels as huge as he'd seemed the first time we'd hooked up under the stars: so thick and so big that I'd been convinced I wouldn't be able to take the whole of his massive member into me.

But my lover finally makes it all in, with his pubic hair tickling my sac and his balls on my bottom, and falls down onto me, his breath on my neck and his weight crushing me. I sigh and stroke his back, feeling contentedly full and stretched, proud to have his huge organ deeply embedded in me -- it's no small feat! -- and savoring its intimate caress in the most vulnerable part of my body as it gently twitches and pulses.

Julian starts to nibble on the side of my neck, nuzzling my ear and leaving soft, wet kisses on my shoulder. "I'm in you," he murmurs with a lazy grin that I can hear through his voice. I grin back.

"I feel you," I tell him, whispering, and flex my muscle, grasping and releasing his thick member.

"I need to see that," he groans back, and pushes himself off me, his happy strained face flashing me a wicked grin, before I can protest.

"Julian, please!" I beg, but my lover decides to be merciless and press on all my buttons.

With his hands holding my hips to keep me impaled on his shaft, he folds his legs and moves into a sitting position. A second later, I feel the tips of his fingers on my widely stretched pucker and my ring instinctively clamps down on his organ as I suck in a breath.

"I love seeing that pucker clamp down on me," he moans with a thickly veiled voice. I only groan as he continues his gentle ministrations to my rosebud, my contracting ring beginning to feel the spasms of an imminent orgasm as it continues to tighten more feverishly on his tool.

"Julian," I manage to speak, "You're gonna make me..."

I whimper before I can finish my sentence and my ring explodes with even more spasms as an orgasm takes over me, my nuts retracting close to my body in their sac and spilling seed on my chest while my pucker is clamping so tightly on Julian that it is painful. Somewhere in the fog of my orgasm I can hear my boyfriend grunt as he falls back onto me and begins to press in and out of me repeatedly, his rhythm rapidly gaining speed; before long, he is furiously bucking his hips against mine, his heavy sac slapping against my bottom as he repetitively jabs his tool into me, heating my ring with delicious friction.

My orgasm gradually lessens though Julian's fucking keeps me high and light-headed, my shaft not completely deflated between us as he continues to forcefully plunge his massive organ into me. I grasp him with my pucker every time he tries to leave and let him ram into me with no hold back, thoroughly loving the savage caress of his tool excruciatingly angled on the curves of my chute and the hard button of my prostate, feeling my organ growing again.

Julian's lips are all over my face like his hands are all over my body. He can't seem to have enough of me as he kisses my mouth, my chin, my jaw, and roams his hands up and down my side and my legs before sliding them back up to my arms and interlacing his fingers with mine, bringing my hands down above my head. I have his earlobe in my mouth, my tongue sensually playing with it as he nibbles on the skin of my neck, still angrily pounding his tool into me. Another orgasm rapidly builds in this overload of sensations and within seconds, releasing another whimper, I come again as my ring desperately tightens on Julian's large organ into an impossible vice-grip as my boyfriend fiercely rams deep into me and expands, spilling streams of hot cum into my bowels as he groans and falls on me, crushing me with his weight.

Reality takes a while before it gradually seeps back into the mist of my foggy mind. I feel more than really am aware of my lover's ragged breathing as his chest heaves against mine before it progressively slow downs; his lips sweetly graze mine for a minute, before he lifts his body off me and, with his hands on my hips, pulls his semi-soft member from my rectum. I wince a little when the plump head pops my abused ring, soothed nonetheless by a whispered 'sorry sweetie' from Julian.

I want to close my legs but my boyfriend stops me from doing so, being stronger than me, especially in this state. He presses my legs down wide open on either side of me, leaving my red pucker completely exposed and totally helpless as he starts a new attack on my sensitive rosebud. I protest with a whimper yet Julian seems to think of it as an encouragement as he continues licking my wrinkled opening, spearing my ring from time to time and pushing his tongue deep in to taste his own cum mixed with my juices, sucking painfully hard on my pucker. I whimper again before I manage to detach him from my rosebud. Julian quietly laughs before he lies atop of me, pressing me down with his weight. He loves covering me this way and I don't complain, enjoying the weight of his body on me.

"You're not completely clean yet," he protests mockingly.

"Too sensitive," I answer, waking from my weary state.

"You're gonna leak cum down your legs if you don't let me finish cleaning you," he argues. "And I spilled a river into you." The bastard has a point. He's gone back down, too, before I can say anything, persuading me with a trail of sweet, wet kisses down my chest. I sigh and open my legs wide again as he kisses the head of my organ and then down the shaft, over my sac and to my pucker. He is more gentle this time, licking softly and probing his tongue through my sensitive ring tenderly. I reach one hand down and play with his locks as he continues with his delicate ministrations. After a while, my sensitivity lessens and his tongue feels good on my pucker, although not erotically so. I guess I'm simply too sated again for it to feel that way.

I sigh contentedly as Julian spears his tongue again into my ring and licks his cum out of my pucker. I feel so relaxed and happy to have my lover back that the fact I have to go to work is a bitch; I mechanically look at the alarm clock on the bedside and groan.

"I'm going to be late," I say out loud, more to myself than Julian. My boyfriend stops nonetheless and pulls his tongue out of my hole, giving my sac a gentle nip before gazing up at me with tranquil blue eyes.

"Go," he tells me, raising himself into a sitting position. "I'll meet you at two at the park."

I remain still on the bed for a while, pondering this idea as Julian takes upon himself to clean my abdomen of my cum, using another hand towel, pulled out from the bedside nightstand drawer (they were there for a reason!) to wipe off the translucent ropes of semen smeared on my torso when he laid on me. I watch his loving, tender way of cleaning up my mess with long, gentle strokes, and wait until he finishes to finally nod my agreement, get up under his gaze and walk to the dresser. My cell is on top of it and I want to call one of my colleagues to tell him I'm going to be late -- and to tell my boss I'm caught in a traffic jam.

I finish dialing the number and am about to press the call button when I feel Julian's hands caress my cheeks and part them, burying his tongue deep into my rosebud. I groan and hold onto the dresser.

"I think I'll simply call in sick," I tell him.

"Don't," Julian insists, pulling out a second. "You only had some cum dribbling down your leg."

"Ha ha," I roll my eyes with a sarcastic chuckle. "I believe you."

"Seemed like you did from the bed!" With his thumbs placed at my puckered entrance, he pushes them apart, opening my ring a little. "Push," he orders and I do, feeling a bit of cum ooze out and Julian's tongue immediately snaking through my ring. He pulls it out a moment later, though, licking his way up my back to my neck as he stands up. "Please go to work, Xan," he softly tells me, speaking against my neck and kissing me there.

"I'll tell Keith I'll be late, then," I answer, pressing the call button. I bring the cell to my ear and hear it begin to ring. Meanwhile, Julian is still nibbling on my neck, stroking my sides and hips, and possessively kneeding cheeks with his warm hands.

"Xander?" Keith's voice comes on the phone after the third ring.

I'm about to answer when Julian chooses this precise moment to place the slick, fat head of his stiff organ on my pucker and pushes it smoothly past my ring with a pop. I gasp and tense at the unexpected intrusion, not really hurt as my well-used hole from our rough fucking is already loose and lubed with Julian's come, yet still colored with the usual bit of pain that comes with penetration.

"Is this you, Xander?"

"Yes," I manage to hiss. Then with a strained voice attempting neutrality: "Stuck in traffic." Spoken way too fast. "Tell Johnson." And too concise.

"Are you okay?" my colleague inquires. "You sound..." He probably realizes how I sound because he stops himself short. "Okay," he speaks again at last. "I'll tell Johnson you're caught in traffic." Then another awkward pause. "You owe me." And our conversation ends there with a click as he hangs up and I lower the phone back down on the dresser.

"Sorry," Julian whispers against my neck as he strokes my sides and my back. "Seems I can't help myself anymore and you're too hot, Xander. Just so fucking hot. Let me fuck you again before you leave to work. Please."

It seems an odd demand from the man who has the head of his tool already embedded in my rectum and secured by my ring; but I get too caught up in the feelings he is waking in my chute and my shaft again to have very coherent thoughts. I press back down on his enormous organ and force another inch into me.

"Fuck me," I grunt shamelessly.

Julian obliges, ramming it up my well-used hole. I love having "replays" -- being fully loosened up, I can take Julian to the hilt in one go and barely any pain.

* * *