Reciprocity

Reciprocity

It's a rare phenomenon.  Every once in awhile, no matter how many pics are exchanged, you end up standing in front of a guy's house and he opens the door and your eyes felt like they just spooged on the stoop because he's so goddamn surprisingly handsome it should be outlawed. And in even rarer instances, you immediately feel like that physical attraction is paid right back in equal terms.  Exactly equal.  No catalysts needed.  Just put them side by side and things explode.  And it's enough to overcome a few obstacles that would make a connection less likely to succeed.

He plucked my ad off the craigslist listings, obviously only half heeding the message that was contained in it.  His response to the ad was pretty straight-forward.  He sent a body pic and asked for a face pic in return.  And the exchange was less than ideal: my perfectly focused pic for a blurred out mug shot that looked like it came from the DMV.  Yeah.  Whatever.  Didn't give it any high hopes, but two days later I decided to drop him a line before I met some buds at the beach to play volleyball, asking if he wanted to meet up after.  Surprisingly, he eagerly responded and a few hours later there I was at his door crawling around and patting the floor trying to find the jaw that I just dropped.

And apparently that initial reaction was enough to carry us through a really compelling time in each other's company.

The reason why I'm making a huge fuss over it is because we are hardly a match.  If you fed the likes and dislikes though the computer, it'd never put us together.  His no-nonsense initial reply was later toned down with soft suggestions of getting together for dinner and to "hang out".  In person, he was coy and shy, deflecting my advances with chaste kisses and distracting me with offers of water or crumpets and tea or walks along the beach.  I felt like a bull in a china shop.  Me: basically naked with a towel around my waist (I needed to shower to get the sand off me and well, why bother with the clothes when they're going to come off anyway?).  Him: fully clothed and turning his head when I went in for a kiss.  Then he'd swoop in for a quick peck on the lips.  My paws were all over him while he squirmed away.  And then he'd reel me in for another quick kiss.  And when he spoke, our eyes would connect for a brief moment here and there where I felt like he wanted me just as bad but was utterly embarrassed about it.  And then his eyes would dart away to conceal themselves.  When I pulled him into a hug, I could feel him starting to chub up and fill out his shorts.

We finally crashed on his bed and I somehow managed to get him to take off his shirt, I pulled him to and he curled up into me, resting his head on my chest.  I was pretending to watch TV while my hands idly played with his chest, fingers softly running over his arms what were tightly muscled.  Very little fat padding that body.  His chest was equally taught and his shoulders showed lots of strain from hard work.  No chiseled abs or anything, just a hard body used to hard labor and a good diet.  And when I looked over, he shorts were tenting proudly as his cock was pulsing and ready for attention.  Instead, I used my other hand to reach over, thumb and index finger lightly pulling his chin up to turn his smoothly angled face up so that his soft lips met mine.  And when he finally let go and gave himself into the kiss, he was damned good.  He was deliberate yet gave ample opportunity for me to lead.  Rush in, retract, and rush back in again.  Back and forth, soft and hard.

By the time he worked his way down and his hot breath singed the head of my cock, I yelped and writhed.  Then I grabbed his head tightly and shoved him down on my cock.  Enough of the teasing.  I wanted his throat!

But damn if he wasn't a bit too toothy.  And he bobbed up and down at a frantic pace that did nothing for me.  Whereas before when he was slow and I wanted to run him over with a truck with my advances, I now wanted him to ease up at a languid pace when he finally got his lips around my cock.  He was ready to suck everything down like a kid in a candy shop with two minutes to live.  Even as I grabbed his head to guide him, he wouldn't let up.  But it was that attraction that pulled me through despite it all and I held his head still when he tried to pull off so I could cum down his damn throat.  And I then fucked it down.  I let go as my body was a wreck in spasms but he kept on me, milking me of the last drops.  And then he kept going.  I tried to pry him off my sensitive cock as he sent another wave of spasms across my body but was thwarted by his will until I managed to grab his close cropped hair in a fist and pull him off.

"You fucking bastard!" I cried as I was coming down.

He giggled like a catholic school girl at a porn shop and then gently nuzzled my cock one more time before falling back on the bed.

I was still fucking turned on, so I swooped down and started to suck him in earnest, surprising him a bit.  And mere seconds later, he was softly moaning how he was about to cum.  Polite warnings which I paid no attention to as I felt him blast jet after jet into the back of my throat.

I was nice.  I only sucked a second or two longer than was necessary on his sensitive cock, to which he smiled and softly laughed.

Two guys apparently looking for two different styles of hookups: me rough and tumble while him more sweet and sensitive.  And at first glance there shouldn't be anything that would make this stick but you don't get that feedback of reciprocity in raw attraction often enough so you overlook the awkward fits and starts and focus on how satisfying it is to marinate on that electricity between the pair of you, culminated and symbolized in a load in each of your bellies.

Snapshot: Another midwestern conference guy

How the hell does the Midwest pump out all these hot guys that are firecrackers in bed?  I didn't even want to hook up that day 'cause I was under five thousand different deadlines.  But there I was, my raw cock buried deep inside a Midwestern kid with an awe-shucks attitude for the second time in half an hour and fucking a load out of the boy.  Well, "boy" might be the wrong term as he was a couple years older than me, but he was a couple inches shorter and you couldn't design a custom fit ergonomically minded product that more perfectly in my arms...  and in my lap...  and in the crook of my arm as we caught our breath from the first load that I shot deep inside him.  Piercing grey eyes that hypnotized you as you start to analyze each fleck of his iris and feather soft, untreated hair that padded my fingers and licked the parts inbetween when I grabbed his head with both hands to pull him to me in a deep kiss.  Soft fur across his chest and soft padding across the muscles of his perfectly cast masculine frame.  Such a hot guy makes me want to utterly destroy and defile him and I did (twice) until he had to run to his conference.  And I still wonder if he wore his designer cut-out briefs/jock and risked my load leaking out while he was sitting in a break-out session with other colleagues and professionals.  Regretfully, he washed up and rinsed off his own super-sized load that he sprayed all over his body.

Snapshot: Not even close

I got the dreaded question that every top that prides himself on being a good lover fears: "Are you close yet?"  ... said in that tentative voice with a little bit of fear.  And the problem was that I wasn't even a tenth of the way there.  A jersey boy with Mediterranean features, here for an extended stay as a contractor, lying flat face-down on his belly and my raw dick wrapped by his deeply warm hole with a vise-like grip and I wasn't anywhere near the finish line.  Broad expanse of a back down to a narrow waist.  Shoulders softly dusted with fuzz.  Beautiful skin.  Unblemished until goosebumps peppered the valleys between his shoulders and down his back as I raked a day's worth of stubble across them.

Fuck with being nice.  I could tell he wasn't a bottom by the way his hole resisted me and gripped my cock like Homer choking Bart Simpson.  I placed my arm on his back and laid my full weight into it, pressing my elbow into that knot in his back that I felt earlier, hoping to distract him from the pain that was to come as I built up speed and fucked all my inches deep inside him.  By the time I let loose, my hands were violently wrapped around the back of his neck and squeezing him as much as he squeezed junior down there and filled him with a huge load that was built up over a couple days.

He rolled onto his back afterward and his cock was shriveled up into a nub smaller than a flake of potpourri.  Fuck.  I thought I was better than that.

Funny thing is that he asked me to come back later in the week.  Go figure.

Snapshot: Letting go

It was a scene out of a bad romance movie.  Two lovers cropped close with their lips locked and lost in the serenity of each other's sweet passion.  Slow movements, deliberate yet soft.  Two sets of soft, lush red pillows quietly colliding and swirling around as if suspended in liquid and swirling around in a random dance.  Then the frame pans out just as slow and you can see violent activity in the background.  Flashes and then rapid streaks across the air in the near distance.  Fiery heat and a tail of violence rapidly flying by.  Repeatedly.  Rapidly.  The juxtaposition of love and war.

Except this was real.  And I broke the kiss with the smile the crept up while our lips were seeking each other out.  I smiled because this was exactly what I wanted.  He finally just. let. it. go.

I'm talking about "the cop" that keeps on shielding his vigorous and copious cumshots playing with me, trying to contain the chaos of power that's released from his meat.  He finally listened to me and just let himself get lost in the orgasm, letting the white liquid heat boil over and fire without restraint.  I could almost feel the violence ripple past as it sliced through the air with a blunt edge and my face was singed from a couple droplets that landed on my cheek.  The first missile left a long solid trail down his chest and shrapnel all over my pillows and sheets.  The energy from his pulsing cock fanned out down to his toes and wrecked his body with convulsions that reached his head when I broke out into that smile.  Aftershocks when I didn't let go and gave his lifesource a couple more strokes.

I missed most of it.  My eyes were half closed as we made out through most of it.  But I still felt it.  And we both looked at each other knowing this was different than the other times.  I broke off the gaze, lapped up some cum, and snowballed it back to him.  What started as sweet roses ended with an oink.