Author: Aardvark

Email: losingthewill2live@gmail.com

 

The following story is almost certainly a work of fiction.

If you shouldn't be reading this sort of thing, because of the rules which operate in the place where you live, then your decision to continue reading must be a matter between you, your conscience, and your relationship with whoever it is who makes the rules be it your mother or your government.

 

I should address the `playing safe' issue, I suppose. Leo and Michael don't, because they don't need to: Leo was a virgin when the relationship began, and has only ever had unprotected sex with Michael, who had tested `negative' in his most recent test, since when he had not been exposed. Which means they can indulge freely, without having to break off in mid-flow and start scruffing around in search of condoms (remember what those days were like?)

 

Comments are welcome. There's more to tell, and if there's any interest to hear it, then, you never know...

 

And, as ever, donations to Nifty are encouraged. We all get a helluva lot of `entertainment' from these pages; give something back. Follow the link on the Nifty homepage to see how you can donate. 

 

Many thanks for your comments. I only hope that it's as rewarding to read as it is to write.

 

A word of warning I expect that the episode after this one will be the last.

 

 

 

Lost Ball: Part 18

`Return of the Prodigal...(4)'

 

My way of marking the return of the prodigal had been to open a particularly fine vintage.

Leo, however, approached things rather differently.

It was a novelty to be preparing for bed, at the end of the evening, with Leo still present, as well. In the past, he would always have gone home for the night, by this stage, and the whole process of `going to bed' had been something rather solitary, and which had only taken place `afterwards'. The normal routine of locking up, and of switching off the lights had an extra dimension, with him there, in the background, as he went off to brush his teeth, and to do all those prosaic things which, as a matter of course, are part of going to bed. I caught sight of myself in the sitting room mirror, and I found I was smiling idiotically.

By the time I got to the bathroom, Leo had finished in there, leaving in his wake a fresh smell of toothpaste, and of soap. Inevitably, there was also a fair degree of water splashed around the place...and I smiled indulgently, even at that. I did notice, though, that there was no sign of him having taken the shower I'd suggested he should but, there was no way I was going to upbraid him about that. Not tonight.

The first hint I got that Leo was up to something came as I turned off the lamps in the salone, and the light which came through the doorway from the dressing room was different from normal. As I approached more closely, I saw that the dressing room light had been switched off, and the light filtering through from the bedroom had an unusual quality to it. Quietly, I closed the dressing room doors behind me, and I crossed the room, and went through, into the bedroom.

Leo had turned on both bedside lamps, but had then dimmed them low enough that the room was merely suffused with a glow, and the far corners of the room could barely be distinguished in the rather dramatic half-darkness. He'd banished the duvet to a chair, off to one side, and he was lying on his back, naked, on the bed, facing towards me. His head was propped on two pillows, so that he could look ahead rather than up at the ceiling, as he lay there, and another two pillows had been placed beneath his hips. In readiness. The room smelled heavily of the baby oil liberated from the bathroom cabinet, I presumed with which he appeared to have anointed his entire body, and which made the contours of his musculature gleam in the dimmed light. Fortunately, I also clocked that he'd had the foresight to cover the bed with a large bath-towel before he'd prepared his orgiastic spectacle.

He lay there, legs apart, with his knees drawn up, and his feet resting on the bed, just beneath his bum. The pillows beneath his hips emphasized that part of his body, and my eyes were inevitably drawn to the exposed area beneath his balls, and to the beginning of the crevice between his cheeks, where the glory of his bud was concealed. His cock was rigid, and flat against his belly, and in the dimmed lamplight I could see the gleam where the light caught the sheen of oil between his legs, and where it covered his shaft and his balls, and the underside of his buttocks. I had no doubt that when I came to part his cheeks down there I would also find a coating of oil on the inside of his crevice and around the puckered lips of his arsehole.

As I stood at the foot of the bed, Leo looked up at me, wordless and serious, and with both of his hands he played with his own nipples, twisting and teasing them gently between his fingers and thumbs. The sensations he was giving himself by doing that caused him to thrust his groin upwards, off the pillows beneath him, and to clench his buttocks and his abs at the same time. His face muscles twitched, with a look of pure lust. And then, with his eyes never leaving my face, he slid his hands down his gleaming flanks, to the inside of his thighs, which he clasped momentarily, spreading his own legs further, before his hands went further down, to the muscles on the underside of his buttocks. He continued to work his groin up and down, slowly and lasciviously, all the while, and he slid his hands back and forth, between his legs, massaging his own perineum. Then, he pushed his hands down, right to his arse, and with the forefingers of both hands he spread his buttocks, and exposed to me the tightness of his bud beneath. With the tip of one finger, he began to tease himself there, sliding the fingertip up and down over his pucker, and slightly pushing inside, while his other hand reached for his cock, which he began to stroke, as he thrust slowly up and down on the bed, beneath my gaze. It was a performance of sheer and unmitigated wantonness, and he played it to perfection.

Inside my briefs and my chinos, my cock felt so hard at the sight before me that it seemed as though it was about to break free. Or, to break something, at any rate.

I could tell from the deep groan that he emitted as his hand started to work his rigid cock that Leo had turned himself on intensely with the display he'd laid on for me...and the risk seemed very real that he was about to bring matters to a conclusion, far too soon. I caught his eye, and with a raised eyebrow and a slight shake of my head, I let him know that he should hold off, and that there would be more... that he should wait . Visibly, he reined himself in. His let his hands drop to his sides, and he lay back, breathing hard, while his disappointed cock stood proud and throbbing and his chest moved up and down in time with the breathing that he was gradually bringing back under control.

It seemed only fair that he, too, should be given a performance, and I moved round to the side of the bed in order to do just that. With Leo's head turned to one side, so that he could watch, I began to undress. Slowly.

Carefully, I undid my shirt, button by button. Pausing halfway through, as I did so, to slide my hand inside, and to play with my own nipples, first left, then right hidden from his view, but certain that he knew what I was doing. Aware of the sensation as I grazed my thumb over each nipple in turn. Feeling them harden under my touch. I kept my eyes on his, the entire time I did so. Once I'd unbuttoned as far down as my waist, I undid my belt, and left it hanging open, and then I opened the waistband of my trousers. As I slowly unzipped my flies, Leo's gaze was transferred to my groin, and to the distended contours of the pouch of my briefs as it became visible, pushing through my opened fly. I undid the last remaining buttons on my shirt, and then I stood there, my shirt hanging open, and the bulge of my erection emerging, cotton-clad, through the opened `V' of my chinos. His hand strayed back to his cock, and as he lay there, looking up at me, my clothes disarranged, he began absent-mindedly to play with himself.

I reached down to take his hand from his cock, and I pulled him gently towards me. He had to roll over onto his front in order not to be dragged, in the process, and he supported himself up on his left hand, as I drew his right hand up and placed it on my chest, inside my shirt. With Leo in that position, the view I had of his oiled bum, buttocks clenched as the hardness of his cock was pressed underneath him down and into the mattress, was breathtakingly sexy. Playmate of the Millenium. Where I'd placed his hand could have been over my heart, although just as readily, it could have been over my nipple. Possibly, Leo understood it as both. And reaching up, he began to squeeze and rub my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already sensitive from my own ministrations, I closed my eyes briefly at the added sensation of Leo's touch. Then he moved his hand across, and gave equal attention to my other nipple, before he began to work his hand slowly down my torso, his face a mask of concentration as he did so. Over the muscles of my stomach, he toyed briefly with my navel, and then he slid his hand down and into my opened trousers. Instinctively, I pushed my cock against his hand, and the feeling as I stood there with my pelvis thrust forward for him to explore me like that felt gloriously sexy. He touched and teased and probed the shaft of my cock, rock-hard inside my briefs, and then he reached further in to manipulate my balls through the fabric of my underwear. I pushed my trousers further down, to the top of my thighs, so that he had a better opportunity to push his hand back through, between my legs, and to grope my arse.

With my briefs now fully exposed, I reached down, and, with my hand on the back of his head, I manoeuvred him forward, so that his face was only an inch away from the distended pouch of my briefs. And then, less - only a hairsbreadth away. With his eyes closed, he moved his head slightly to the left, in line with the way my cock was aligned within my underwear...and I realized that he was inhaling the scent of my crutch. Sexy little fucker! As he breathed out, I could sense the warmth of his breath against my shaft.

I edged forward, only fractionally, but it was enough for me to place his lips against the head of my cock, clearly outlined within the fine cotton which clung tightly to it. His mouth opened against the outline of my glans, visible through the fabric, and he began to suck against it, making a growing damp patch in the cotton where it covered my cockhead. He was supporting himself on his forearms, by now, and as he sucked and licked my groin I could see his arse work up and down as he humped his cock against the bed.

Stepping back and away from him for an instant, I quickly slipped out of my shoes and got rid of my chinos, leaving them on the floor where I kicked them, and then dressed now just in my briefs, with my shirt hanging open, I moved forward again. He lowered his head a little, and began to nuzzle my balls through my underwear, and to kiss the tops of my thighs. Communicating by means of pressure from my hands, I encouraged him to roll onto his back, and he did so, with his head extended out and down, beyond the edge of the bed. In an instant, I'd straddled him, and his face was trapped between my legs, his mouth pressed up against my taint, and the upper half of his face pushing against my arse. He continued to suck, as before, and, reaching between my legs, he pushed the leg of my briefs aside sufficiently that his tongue was licking directly against my exposed perineum, which he then proceeded to work with his mouth, and to suck hungrily, while I moved rapidly backwards and forwards, rubbing myself against him. His hand had gone back to his cock, by now inevitably - and as he sucked me and wanked himself, his breathing was interspersed with excited low mewing noises. Looking down at the glorious sight of his body stretched beneath me, I reached down with my left hand and toyed with his nipple, while with my right, I couldn't resist thrusting the front of my underpants down and working my own erection.

My remaining clothes suddenly felt cumbersome and an impediment, and I stripped off my shirt, and again stepping back just for an instant I pulled down my briefs and stepped out of them. Returning to the same position as before, I moved slightly further forward, and I reached round behind myself to part my buttocks above Leo's face, to give him full access there. And as I felt the tip of his tongue begin to probe, and to intrude, I groaned deeply and I leant forward to rest my hands on the bed, on either side of his waist. He reached up, and with both hands he clasped the small of my back, pulling himself up in order to get better purchase against my arse. In front of my face, his rigid cock, now abandoned by his hand, begged for attention, and I bent and swiped his cockhead with my tongue. The heat that was being generated by his groin was intense, and the mingled scent of the baby oil and of his own musk was deeply memorable.

The physical position was impractical, if I wanted to do more which I did and, with some regret, I backed away, and eased myself off Leo's face. He frowned, momentarily, clearly not happy at having his plaything removed. At which I could only grin: Leo still being a kid.

At my urging, he moved back across the bed, giving me space to climb on. And I knelt at one side of the bed, looking down at him. From where he lay, he would have had a worm's eye view of my balls, tight and up against my body, and of my cock, hard and arching directly upwards, and of my hand, slowly working it. He shuffled himself forward, between my thighs, and I got the message, and raised myself up, to give him room to reassume his previous position, facing upwards and beneath me. I moaned gently, and with satisfaction, as his tongue found the underside of my balls, and he licked them thoroughly, before taking them, one by one and with great care, into his mouth, and caressing him there with his tongue. Then, with his hands at my waist, he pulled himself further backwards, and once more I felt his tongue working its way up the crevice between my buttocks, and I leant slightly forward, and closed my eyes in order more thoroughly to lose myself in the sensations he was generating in me. As he'd already demonstrated many times, when it came to using his tongue to great effect, Leo was a natural.

Breathing hard, I let myself fall forward, so that I was on my hands and knees above him, with his cock and balls immediately below my face. In order not to let contact between us be broken, Leo had his arms clasped firmly around my waist, and his face was raised up to my arse, where he seemed determined to give me the rimming of my life. As he licked, and sucked, and slobbered, to the accompaniment the whole time of a continuous stream of small Leo-noises. I lowered my face to his groin, and drank in his heady smell, before I began to wash his cock and balls with my tongue. Very thoroughly. I was resting on my elbows, by now, and my hands went round and under his thighs, to clasp his buttocks, while he started to fuck into my mouth with a series of short and determined thrusts.

It seemed only natural that I would pull his knees back and further apart, in order to access the space between his legs, and as I pulled his legs even further back the glorious orbs of his bum, and all that lay between. I pressed my face against his taint, and gently began to nibble him there, working my way further down, and reaching through his legs to spread his arse cheeks in readiness as I did so. And then, perfectly mirroring his actions on me, I leant in, and began to probe his tight pucker with the tip of my tongue, holding his buttocks apart at the same time, to allow me greater freedom to do so.

Rimming, is all very well...and probably one of the most intimate things it's possible to do to another person...but, for me it will always be a clumsy second best to the exquisite effects to be generated by the expert use of fingers inside another guy's arse. Which is why, after only a minute or two of rimming Leo, I switched, and began to play my fingers along the entrance to his arsehole. I watched intently what my fingers were doing, from a distance of all of six inches away. My finger traveled round and round his pucker, and then swiped across it, back and forth, several times...and then, I pushed inside. First, just with one finger, and then, I added a second. As Leo felt what was happening, he couldn't carry on with what he'd been doing, and he fell back onto the bed, underneath me, and readily surrendered himself to what I was doing to him. He began to groan, in time with the entry of my fingers into his backside, as they worked in and out, rhythmically, sliding readily against the accumulated lubricant of my saliva and the oil which he himself had generously applied. The first two fingers of my right hand slid in and out of him, to the depth of the second knuckle, and he whimpered as they brushed against and teased the sensitive node of his prostate. And then, I switched hands...making him gasp first at the sudden vacancy in his arse, and then again at the intrusion of a different set of fingers, as I plunged the first two fingers of my left hand into him, instead. Like that, I worked his arse, switching hands every couple of strokes in and out of him, and with each change, touching him slightly differently, and keeping him constantly on edge as my fingers played him with expert precision.

Yet again, when I sensed that he was near to cumming, I pulled back. Not yet. Not quite yet.

It had been close, though, and when I climbed off him and scruffled round, so that we were lying properly alongside each other, he was still breathing hard and hadn't yet come down fully from his almost-orgasm.

I held him close, and we lay together, his erection pressing into my side, and my hand caressing his hip, and then moving further round to cup his buttock, and gently to explore down and into the crevice of his arse. Conscious of the sound of his breathing, and with the taste of him lingering in my mouth, I realized that I was experiencing him with every one of my senses: sight, touch, sound, smell, and taste. But, more than that, I was aware of him as a presence in my being. Why don't they include that in the list? I wondered. It's more important than all of the others put together...

"Michael?" His voice was low, and there was a hint of uncertainty in it.

"Yes, carissimo?"

"Please, fuck me." There was an unspoken need beneath his words, not obviously urgent, but deeply intense. I met his look.

"Yes," I said. My voice was as low and quiet as his had been, but the strength of the look that I gave him made clear that my feelings were anything but restrained. I was conscious that I'd purposely kept him hard and unsatisfied for the past hour or more, constantly taking him near, and then repeatedly drawing back, in order to magnify the intensity of his release when it would come. He hadn't necessarily understood that or, perhaps he suddenly doubted the understanding that he'd had. I rolled him slightly away from me, so that I could reach down and grasp his cock, and when I had it in my grip, I wanked him a few times, and ran my thumb over his glans, causing a small intake of breath and a noise, at the same time, in his throat. A feeling washed over me that seemed at the same time intensely complicated and yet devastatingly obvious: I wanted Leo, so much, and in every possible way...physically, and emotionally, and spiritually, and ...I don't know...holistically, maybe. I recognized that I wanted to be one with him, bodily, and also somehow to achieve the same unity inside his head, and inside his soul. It was too complicated a sense even to begin to pin down, and so I just allowed it wash over me...slightly overwhelmed at its magnitude, but with every intention of communicating it as fully as I could to Leo merely by my look. Which he met. Unspeaking.

"You'd better sit on me," I said, finally, after the pause between us had lengthened.

"Ok." Given our history, there was nothing remarkable in my suggestion, but something about the moment had communicated itself to him, and his agreement sounded both serious, and slightly nervous. He removed himself from my arms, and stood up, standing over me on the bed. For my part, I sat up, and rested back on my hands, with my legs stretched out, bent slightly at the knees, and my ankles crossed. My cock stood obscenely proudly, jutting out from my lap, and with my right hand, I reached down and held the shaft so that it pointed unremittingly upward. I looked up at him, and, with my expression, indicated that all was now ready, as he wished. He stood, his cock in his hand, as he carefully wanked it, in preparation, and he looked down at me, ready in turn. I smiled at him, and he moved to stand directly above my lap.

Carefully, almost like some kind of limbo-dancer, he bent his knees and he began to lower himself down. Until he was squatting directly over his target, at which point, he was low enough down to be able to steady himself by putting his hand on my shoulder. I pushed my groin upwards, to meet his approach, and with the hand that grasped my shaft, I located the head of my cock precisely at his arsehole. I'd raised one of my knees, behind him, to help to steady him, and he reached for it now, to help support him as he impaled himself on me...one hand on my shoulder and the other behind him, on my knee. My own hand, I let drop from my cock, once he was in place, and with both of my hands I held onto his ankles. Quite apart from the raw sexuality of the situation, the physical demands of the position Leo had adopted meant that his thigh and buttock muscles tensed as he squatted there, and through his splayed thighs, beneath his balls, I had a unrestricted view of my own cock entering him between the perfect curves of his buttocks, to either side of my rigid shaft.

After what I'd been doing to him earlier with my fingers, there was no obvious resistance as my cock penetrated him, although I was conscious of the enveloping warmth as I pierced his sphincter, and the muscles of his arse still clamped me tightly as he worked himself down and incrementally onto me. As he did so, he cried out, at the sensation as my cock worked its way deeper and deeper inside him. Behind his back, I raised my other knee, and I tightened my hold on his ankles, as I began to fuck up into him, at the same time as he was working himself further down onto me. From a combined process of pressure from my knees against his back, and my hands pushing against his ankles, he understood he should move forward and drop down onto his knees, and in that position I could reach forward and gather him into my arms. He rocked back and forth, held tight against me, with my cock deep in his arse, and his cock trapped between us, being wanked against me by the movement of our bodies. His cries had translated into a throaty and rhythmic moaning, by this point, both plaintive and pleading at the same time, and he held tightly onto my shoulders as his mid-section surrendered to his purely physical need. I couldn't have explained right then whether I was fucking him, or he was fucking himself on me whatever it was we were doing, we were doing it entirely together, just as much to and for each of us ourselves as it was to and for the other one.

Leo's cries began to change in tone, going into a higher register, and I thrust into him even harder, as I recognized the imminence of his orgasm. He crushed my face to his chest as he rode me increasingly wildly, and I held him just as tightly against me, and concentrated on giving him as much intense pleasure as I could. With one final shout, he climaxed, and I could feel his cum shooting hotly between our bodies, as he gave way to a series of shuddering cries, diminishing in intensity with each bolt of cum, and in themselves each one a combination of distress, and of release, and even, a little, of awe.

In one fluid move, as he collapsed on top of me, I rolled him sideways and onto his back, slipping my arms from under him as I did so, and pushing them instead against the back of his knees, which I pushed apart and down onto his chest. It took only two deep thrusts, before I could feel my own orgasm juddering through me, in response to our intense and prolonged session of foreplay.

And it was with a soul-wrenching force that I shouted out, in turn, as I flooded his insides, and, all-but weeping, I gathered him to me.

*

We lay together, in the darkness, afterwards, gently touching and kissing, and, when we felt like it, talking. Leo was sprawled half on top of me, his face against my chest, with my arm underneath and around him, and his left leg resting between my thighs. His cock, limp and entirely relaxed, was pressed casually against my hip in a way that I found deeply and wonderfully intimate.

I don't know why it came into my mind, but I thought suddenly of our waiter's comment and toast, at the end of the dinner in the restaurant up in the hills. And I told Leo about what he'd said: "your very beautiful love story." It seemed apposite.

From his side of the darkness, though, Leo was silent. And when he did speak, it was with a voice tinged with sadness. And perhaps with a hint of tears.

"And, then...I went and fucked it all up." It was going to be a long time before I could convince him of the opposite. I paused.

"I don't think so," I said, and kissed his forehead. "If you had done, then we wouldn't be here now, would we?" I felt his grip tighten on me, perhaps in thanks for having addressed his immediate need, for reassurance. I thought a little more. "It's fair to say, you gave it one hell of a kicking...but you certainly didn't `fuck it all up'." Another pause. Another kiss. "And, I suppose, if you think about it, if we're ok now...after...all of that...then I think we're probably pretty ok for the long-term."

"The long-term?"

"Yes. Years, and years probably." Although, I didn't want to seem to presume. "If that suits?" Another pause, but this time, it seemed somehow comfortable.

"Mm." Apparently, it did.

And, a moment later, I could tell, from his breathing, that he'd fallen asleep.

 

To be continued....(just)