false

Today's orgasm was slow-built over the course of a hot, sweaty hour in a small bedroom in Greenpoint, with the window open and a light breeze blowing through the trees outside-- built up inside the wet mouth, against the lean body and huge thick tool of a small, slightly older dude-- built up even more intensely when said dude offered me his bare hole to receive my throbbing, stone-solid prick a few times. Just a few strokes each, half against his will, half with all the desire in the world. He had invited me up to service my meat and drink my cum. It had been a stressful day and I just wanted pleasure-- as much pleasure as I could stand, just to enjoy someone's body, to enjoy my own body, to feel sex in every cell of my flesh, every joint in my skeleton, every nerve everywhere: no cares, just sex, pleasure, sex. I went up there with my meat already swollen in my pants with the knowledge that I could have it, that all he wanted to do was suck my dick and make me cum and drink whatever I produced in my climax. How exciting to have this on offer, someone waiting to get me off. We kissed and his lips felt ample and open. And when I found the way to work his nipples just right, I knew he would give me everything, and sure enough, he did give me that taboo entry to his body, at least for a while. Just lying against him, limbs twined around each other, dick to dick, mouth to mouth, feeling that intense closeness, was a kind of heaven, and I just drank it in, sometimes stopping just to feel the closeness, hold his body, hold his ass in my hands with his legs wrapped around my waist and our groins pressed together tight. "You're very good," he said as I moved agains him, and worked my dick into his hole, and I realized then how quiet he had been. I am good. Sex is good."You have to fuck me for real sometime," he said, and I took that to mean he wasn't ready today. So I just enjoyed what I had.  I felt incredibly free with him, and he clearly did with me. But then he said something to me that I think I have never heard when on top of another guy.

He said no.

Specifically, after the hour had mostly passed, after we were both extremely worked up and fishy-smelling with precum, after he'd begun begging for my juice, to a request that he turn over and let me eat his ass some more. The ass eating is what I think he put him over the edge-- feeling my tongue inside him, my hand on his hefty rock-hard boner, the other pulling the nipple that made him lose his faculties. After the first round of ass-eating, I had thwapped my stone-stiff prick against his hole and made his hole body quiver. And then, getting him on his back, sliding my meat down between his legs, knocking at heaven's door with my dick, he just raised his hips off the bed and wiggled onto me, staring right into my face, like a kebab skewering itself for grilling. And he took me half way and his whole face radiated bliss, but then he pulled off, afraid. And I got in him again, and again. When I asked for more ass, he knew it would be too much, and I would be fucking my load into his guts instead of down his throat. And more frighteningly, he would want it. So he said, "No."

"NO!" I said, almost laughing. And I harumphed, and got on my back, and ordered him between my legs. "Suck my dick, then." And he was happy to get back onto safe ground. And he sucked me beautifully. For another good three minutes he had me on the edge, and I felt my whole body dissolve onto his tongue. Why can't I always feel this way, was the last coherent thought I had, until I'd slipped over the precipice to orgasm, and my dick began its angry firing into his body via his gullet. He started at the appearance of the first hot, salty jet inside his mouth, but I barked, "Lower," and he took more of my fuckstick into his throat, and it fired even harder, engulfed in the warm pleasure of his attention. He licked my dickhead at just the right spot to make me jizz like a firehose. He was jerking his own truly majestic penis. It was a beautiful sight-- my pleasure was filling him with intense desire. This is how it is with two men. Only possible with two men, a cocksucker with a dick of his own who knows exactly what I feel, who wants to feel it too. When I was done, he asked me to stand beside the bed, dangle my slimy meat into his mouth, and tweak his nipple, and I did, and he spurted thick and white all over his belly, which was sucked in impossibly tight as the sperm appeared. His whole chest was bright red with pleasure. He let go of my dick and finished himself off with a gaping mouth. Pleasure.

His no still lingered over the bed. Who ever said no! In the middle of such intense, beautiful sex! To such a simple request. It still stung a bit. Without that, the sex would have been flawless. Perhaps life is a lot like that Hawthorne story-- perfection would simply immolate us all. Afterward he seemed quite embarrassed and didn't want to talk. Was it because he had greedily taken my naked dick inside his body? Was it because he had given in and felt intensely for a stranger? Who knows. I didn't push it much, and got dressed in silence, much as we had pleasured each other in silence. As I tried to wrestle myself back into my Converse at the door, he stood leaning against the hall watching, then gripped himself through his shorts. "I am still hard as a rock!" he said with wonder. I looked up and on his small frame the big boner was obscene and beautiful. I just smiled, got on the other shoe, kissed him, and said, "It was that good." Then he said goodbye to me, using my name, and I realized I didn't know his at all. We had spent an our intimately wrapped up in each other and said maybe ten sentences to each other, one of which was the startling "no". I left the apartment and stood on the stoop, a little bit dizzy from the meaningless but earth-shifting experience I'd just had. I went back home half on a cloud, half in a fog.

If we get together again, I'm ejaculating in his little body, and I'm not taking no for an answer. He knows at this point what I really want. He just has to decide he wants it too.