CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Van
My mouth crushed down hard on his lips, my tongue searching for something I felt only he could provide. A low moan escaped his mouth as we dissolved into one another. He adjusted the backs of my knees to the inside of his arms, folding me in half before he plunged his cock deeper into me.
“Ohh, fuck,” I groaned, grinding my hips off the bed and meeting each thrust with one of my own. “You’re hitting that spot.”
“Good,” Chip growled. “I know how much you like that.”
“I fucking love that. Like nowhere near describes what you’re doing to me,” I praised, murmuring through our kissing. “You fuck me so good, stud.”
“That’s because you have such an amazing ass,” he said, breathing heavily as he built speed.
I held the back of his head and pulled him closer, our lips locking yet again.
His hair smelled of Irish Spring soap. Here again, another typical straight guy action.
Shampooing his entire body with a bar of soap.
Chip kissed passionately and was completely locked into what we were doing.
I’d never experienced a lover who was so intent on the connection being so intimate.
Perhaps my voicing that I wanted him to fuck me hard, and then pointing out what type of foreplay I desired, made me feel involved on a level I wasn’t accustomed to. Chip said many times he liked how I described in such detail what I wanted from sex.
“You take direction so well,” I stated, gasping each time he buried his cock to the maximum depth. “Fuuuccckkkk,” I moaned, rocking back and forth as he held me while penetrating me so perfectly.
Chip had a particular way of performing while remaining focused on my reactions.
He was aggressive, which I loved, quite passionate, and, dare I say, loving.
I tried not to think about the emotional attachment my heart was trying to tether, but his affectionate ways made blocking out a loving connection nearly impossible.
Pulling away, he gazed into my eyes. We continued the rhythm of our lovemaking, his cock filling me so effortlessly, his sexual abilities scaring me to the bone. I knew I could easily fall in love with him because he possessed everything I lusted after in a man.
He was masculine. Rough, yet tender. In charge, but involved. And he knew his way around a man’s body. He played me like a puppet master played his puppet. Every string I tried concealing, he’d uncover and pull to such agonizing precision I was limp in his hands.
“Can you come like this?” he asked. “I want you to come for me, boy.”
“Keep calling me boy, and I can come all night,” I quipped, sliding my hands down his back and gripping his muscular ass cheeks, pulling him into me.
My head was moving from side to side as I fought the extreme pleasure shocking my prostate.
Each thrust brushed against my sex button, driving me nearly mad.
When his mouth buried into my flesh, his teeth nibbling on the cords supporting my head to my overly stimulated neck, I knew I was about to lose all control.
“You’re amazing, boy,” he praised, dragging his tongue under my chin and across my neck to the other side. “Such a perfect lover, baby boy.”
I clamped down on his cock, needing to feel every solid inch of him inside me.
Our bodies moved as one. Each inhale. Each exhale.
His thrusts were met with mine, and then we locked eyes.
My brain screamed at my being. Tell him, Van.
Tell him right this very second. You know you’re falling in love with him.
“I’m close, stud,” I huffed, grinding my dick against his stomach. “So fucking close!”
He wasn’t even touching my dick. Neither was I. The experience was such that all I needed for climax was rubbing against his abdomen, his six-pack massaging my dick like an old-fashioned washing board, and with zero manipulation from either of us.
“Mmmm, baby boy,” he hummed, breathing and whispering in my ear. “You’re so beautiful to me.”
His words found the key to my heart. His incredible skill at sex was one thing, but the love-speak, too? Comforting and loving words exchanged? And from such a manly man? Put a ring on it this very second.
“I’ve never…” I began, fighting an urge to be too honest about what I was experiencing. “I’ve never been fucked so good. You’re an amazing lover, Chip.”
“Good to know, boy. Now let me fill you with my cum,” he growled. “Would you like that?”
His hips pumped faster, my knees now beside my ears as he positioned me underneath him. We connected again, our eyes exploring each other’s. He was fully, one hundred percent, without a single doubt, focused on me and my satisfaction.
“Right there,” I hissed. “Right the fuck there!”
My hands involuntarily fell to the bed, grabbing and yanking on the blanket every time his cock passed over my prostate. Electric shocks exploding in my mind caused me to shudder from head to toe. The need to stretch out my body and stiffen as straight as a board was only overcome by his strength.
“Go ahead. Tell me, boy,” Chip gruffed. “Tell your man when you’re gonna shoot and I’ll join you.”
“Oh, fuck!” I gasped, my insides feeling like they were going to come undone and blast out of my ears. A shiver began at my toes, rolled up my thighs toward my torso, and then shot north toward the top of my head.
“Come on, baby boy,” he encouraged, pounding me into the mattress by that point. “Tell your man what you’re feeling.”
The combination of his verbal orders, my receptive need for such direction, and a fuck session unlike any I’d ever experienced, worked my climax to a wondrous conclusion.
“Ungh!” I grunted, making several other indecipherable noises as his cock hit my man button the necessary and final time. “Now!” I cried, curling my hips off the bed and suspending myself there as he pumped harder.
“Fuucckkkk!” he hollered, stiffening on the final thrust of hips. “Fuckin’-A, boy. Fuckin’… the fuck-A!”
He felt amazing in my arms, our connection feeling like a match made for the gods. I was so stimulated by his masculinity, his way with me, his words, and especially his desire to please me.
Chip collapsed on top of me, our perspiration joining as our exhausted bodies struggled to find equilibrium again. His cock slid out of my satisfied hole, and he adjusted so it was between us, a reminder that the glorious thing had been inside me. I knew I could easily go another round.
After our breathing had regulated, with him still on top of me, he lifted his head and gazed into my eyes.
“You’re pretty amazing in bed, Van. You’re the perfect lover.
Thank you for that,” he whispered, kissing my nose.
“The connection we shared,” he continued. “You seem to…” His voice trailed off.
“I seemed to what?” I asked, swiping at his sweaty forehead.
“You seem to know my body and how it responds when making love,” he said. “I probably should say when fucking, but what we just shared seemed like more than just fucking. Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong,” I agreed. “You are definitely not wrong. Your cock is hot. Your performance was hot.”
“You thought my cock was hot?” he asked, his voice sounding disappointed for some unknown reason. “And my performance was hot? Is that everything?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, ignoring what sounded like his displeasure for the moment.
Was he fishing for more loving words than hot?
“And you seem to know exactly what I like. No one has ever taken such care in making sure I was satisfied. Or involved. Actually, I’ve never felt more part of a couple during sex. ”
He rolled over, slipping his arm under my neck, his free hand on my chest. “Have you always been so capable of saying what you want?” he asked, outlining my pecs. “Always so sure of yourself?”
I chuckled. “Wish I could say I’ve been,” I replied.
I stared at the ceiling of the cabin. Inlaid knotty pine complemented the paneled walls.
Knots in the wood revealed animals and faces if you looked closely enough.
I was reminded of lying on grass and watching clouds float by, imagining the creatures you could form from them.
Like those moments, I felt content and comfortable with Chip and my surroundings.
“What changed?” he continued. “To me, you seem like a man who’s always been quite certain about his needs.”
“Here again, I wish.”
“Uh-oh,” he said, brushing a nipple and driving me insane with desire. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”
I rolled over to face him, propping myself up on an elbow.
“I’ll share this as an example,” I began.
“My ex never cuddled or remained by my side after sex. He’d orgasm, jump out of bed, and basically ignore me.
I know, stupid thing for me to bring up, but I wanted intimacy. Before, during, after—whenever.”
“And you didn’t get that?”
“I didn’t. But… I’m not here to blame Evan. Because truthfully, I never asked,” I explained, careful not to become the guy who bashes an ex. “My lack of satisfaction fell solely on me. I should’ve asked or, at a minimum, told him what I needed.”
“I’m hearing a lack of communication,” Chip said, kissing me gently on the lips. “Well, kiddo. Let me tell you this. I don’t get the impression you don’t ask anymore.”
“And that’s because I made a conscious decision to voice my inner thoughts if I ever had the chance at love again.”
Chip’s eyes focused on mine. “Okay, Mr. Inner Voice. What sorta chances are you experiencing right now?”
His direct question caught me off guard. I wanted to tell him I was two seconds from professing my love after a performance like he’d just provided. But my inner voice didn’t want to tie great sex to my love feelings for him.
“I’m lying here in a glorious post-sex fog,” I answered. “So… my answer might be prejudiced by my satisfaction.”