No Speed Bumps

Emerson

I'd gone to the pub for a drink. It was a bit late to head out but I felt too restless to stay home waiting to get sleepy.

The place was packed. I pushed to the bar and got a beer. And, not seeing anyone I knew, decided to find a place on the wall near the juke box. And watch the crowd. In fact, this suited my mood perfectly. And I quickly drifted into feeling relaxed and contemplative.

After about 20 minutes, I noticed him. Long silky sun-bleached blond hair. Crystal clear hazel green eyes - rather hard and narrow. Framed with dark lashes. And thick naturally shaped eyebrows. Full sculpted lips that must be illegal somewhere. Or everywhere! And honey-coloured skin. Good body - slim but well-covered if the contradiction makes sense. Bulging pecs and buns. And just shorter than me. Black tee-shirt and faded 501's. Legs wide-apart. Thongs - square golden compact muscular feet – a delta of pulsing veins across their hairy tops. Real casual and blokey like I liked.

He was with friends. A bit drunk - loud and unfocused. Aggressive, arguing everything - for the sake of it. Though laughing a lot too.

Even more people jammed in. And I lost sight of the group.

Then Kurt came in. An old unrequited passion so I was happy to catch up for a bit. And then some guys from Gay Waves radio arrived.

…

Around 2, it began to feel the right time to leave. So I did my goodbyes round the room, slowly working my way to the door. But detouring slightly to walk near the blond. For a last glimpse.

And as I did so, he stumbled a few steps back away from his friends, falling against me. And momentarily holding onto my shoulder to support himself.

'Ta. … Hey, look guys, this is my old mate ... ?'

'Nick'

'Yeah, Nick. Why are ya going mate? It's still real early!’

'Just changing position. All the better to watch ... well ... you know. Little Red Riding Hood and all.'

’Oh ok. Kewl. So how bout a beer then?' And he was unsteadily off before getting a reply.

'Emerson's straight Nick. We know him from work. And he's just chuffed with all the attention.'

The workmate was back with the speed of a man who'd drunk only half as much. And now seemed calmer and sweeter. More focussed.

But he slipped his arm round my waist, with a laughing 'Now, Nick's been watching me all night guys. What do ya reckon it means?'.

'It means I miscalculated badly Emerson. No regrets – you were just too cute not to stare at! But I'm on my way now. Good to meet you guys. Maybe see you again'.

'Hey, look, I was only kidding. Sorry mate. Stay on a bit, eh?"

And I did. And he had more to drink. And everyone was getting on surprisingly well, considering all the seemingly conflicting intentions. But he wasn't contributing much by now. And beginning to look strained. He lowered his head a little and closed his eyes. And then sluggishly slid his arm round my waist. And lent into my body. To everyone's amusement. But mine.

'Ok guys. Who’s getting him home?'

‘Think you might be the best man for the job Nick!’

Peals of laughter. My rising irritation.

I didn’t want to get into this complicated scenario.

…

Emerson put his arm round my shoulder to support himself. And slurred:

‘I need to go home.’

I had his address from one of his friends. And got him out into the street. Into my car. And off to his Bondi Beach flat. A bit Ikea. But spatially well-organised. With big potted plants and vases of flowers dotted round the place.

‘Hey Emerson, do you just wanna crash or have a coffee to sober up?’

‘Coffee'd be great mate. Ta’

He was sitting on the couch, head down again, eyes closed. While I found my way round the kitchen and brewed a pot.

…

I decided to take back control and asked him how his girlfriend let him go out on the town with bunch of gay boys.

‘Haven’t got one at the moment’ – a bit defensively. ‘How bout you?’

‘Gay kinda means you don’t ever have one.’

Laughter. ‘Ok, ok, ok!’

And with that we began to chat more like friends.

…

Until ‘Look mate, I really need to crash. But why don’t you stay over. Got a spare room and I reckon I can trust you!’

‘Thanks, but I don’t know trust myself! You know, in the middle of the night, you’ll hear the floorboards creaking in your bedroom … blah blah blah’.

‘Don’t be stupid! Look, just stay – it’s 4am. And it’d be good to chat in the morning’

…

So I showered. … And jumped into my bed.

He followed me in the bathroom. … And then came in - to thank me for looking after him and say goodnight. He turned out the light on his way out.

But he didn’t seem to go beyond the door. And after a 10 minute silence, he padded slowly and awkwardly back. Stood for a few more minutes. And then sat on the side of the bed.

Crackling silence. Nearly fifteen minutes. And then he lay down beside me.

I imagined I could feel the warmth of his body. Then he moved closer and I could. But nothing more.

And then he quickly rolled on top of me. Grabbing me up hard in arms. Holding me down and burying his head in my neck. The smell of his still damp hair. And musky armpits. The feel of his silky dry skin. The big biceps. The weight of his body, heavy on me. His muscular legs agitating hard against mine … the sensation of thick wiry hair. And his cock, erect through his jocks and in my crotch.

I feverishly pulled his underwear down. His dick rubbed against mine and rolled round my crotch … for the few seconds before he blew. A big load - he just seemed to keep squirting. And then it began to slowly drip down my sides.

He lay silently on me, not moving. And then started to cry.

‘Look Emerson. It’s OK’. I stroked his hair and thumbed the lobes of his ears. And risked kissing him occasionally on the cheek. He was quiet now.

I could smell his cum and hoped it didn’t unsettle him as much as it excited me.

I held him in my arms. Stroked down the curve of his muscular back to the top of his butt. From the furriness there, his buns must be covered in the thickest hair.

I gently eased him off me. And sat up, putting my back against the wall. And lifted him into my lap, his body leaning sideways on my chest and his head on my shoulder. The smell of his sweaty legs and feet tingled in my nose. And got my dick burning hard. I began to finger the hair on his hard knees.

He was completely passive throughout. I said nothing.

I opened his legs to let my cock stick up between his legs against the base of his balls. I could sense my excitement rising. I collected some cum from his snail trail on my finger and tasted it. Too much. And I began to blow – the first big globs landing on his dick and balls. And then the smaller spurts on his inner thighs.

He giggled nervously and was out of my lap. And kneeling beside me, as turned me over onto my stomach. He climbed between my legs, opening mine with his. He lay on me, and got his cock between my buns. It was lubed enough with dribbling pre-cum to work into my hole. He pinned me down so I couldn’t move. And jack-hammered my arse. I could hear his balls slapping my buns. Till he shot, groaning ‘Oh fuck mate … ahh … shit’.

Another long silence. But he stayed inside. Rubbing the warm soles of his feet against my calves. And his face against my neck. His breath on my shoulder.

He started to apologise – ‘Look mate, I didn’t mean to … ah …’.

‘Hey Emerson, no, that was a really great fuck!’

Laughter.

And we subsided into sleep.

…

An hour later, I was awake again. Savouring his body still weighing down on me, and his cock inside. I got my legs outside his and my feet against the wiry hair on the tops of his.

He stirred … kissed the back of my neck … carefully pulled out …with ’Gotta take a leak bud’ … and padded off to the bathroom.

I anticipated watching him come back – to have more of a sense of his whole body.

…

Beefier than I had had him in my mind. His thighs and calves, in particular, heavier, more solid. The thick blond hair on his legs glowed in the dim light. His snail trail and bush were denser and darker. His cock was average length but thick. The head pink and smaller than the shaft.

He noticed my gaze - his dick began to bob side to side as it started to get up. Revealing large fleshy balls that were tightening up against his body.

A shyish smile as got back to the bed and lay on top of me again, wiggling his hips from side to side to get his cock back in me. He began to fuck again - now more calmly.

With his rhythm quickening, I arched my arse up to take more of his cock. And to jerk off on the sheets. But he pulled my hand away – ‘No, not yet mate’ - and pushed me down flat on the bed again. Held me harder – immobilizing me with muscular arms and legs. Slow solid pumping thrusts. Alternating with stirring his cock around inside my hole. Groaning most of the time.

‘Shit! I gotta cum babe. Oh Oooooh, fuuuuuuck. Yeah!’

He wasn’t moving at all, but pushing me down than ever as he kept pumping his load in.

He grunted loudly with each squirt – which with my cock rubbed against the sheets, got me over the edge.

I momentarily lost any sense of time and place.

…

Emerson slid his hand under my stomach and down to my crotch.

‘Did you cum! Fuck!’

…

And that’s how we began.