Compromiso

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Babes

“Next up, is a pike plank! Everyone move to the front of your carriage, like Erik over there! And we’re here for 60 seconds!” Shouted Allan, as he threw a wink in my direction. I could feel my abs burn with each contraction of the machine and my abs. I could smell the sweat puddling on the hard, black top of the reformer machine. And the puddle only grew as the class powered on. And it was over. The pulsing reds were replaced with electric blue lights emitting a monotonous buzz, audible only in my subconsciousness.

“I am going to give you a sanitary high-five! Maybe two. Wipe down the machines and it will be awesome if y’all can put all the straps back. Take your time to stretch, this is the last class of the day. Good job, Erik, killing it as usual!” Allan drawled, gave me a fist bump, and then another wink. I returned with a smile — or what I hoped was a smile anyway. My fingertips reached out completely towards the end of the carriage as I felt the tension in my back slowly ebb away, while the fire in my core dwindled down to embers.

I know he is straight. There is no way he is gay. And I am. 50-50, one of the two guys in a Pilates studio otherwise filled with women clad in bare-all lululemon tights and tops. Oh, and the occasional Alo Yoga fan. And I am there in my ratty workout tank and flowy running shorts.

“Bye Allan, see you next week!” I shouted as I stepped out onto the streets of New York and the cacophony of horns rose up like a wall around me. So much for the hour of respite. I pulled out my phone as I walked towards the 14th Street Union Square subway station.

“Free tonight?”

“Depends on what’s on offer…”

“Slut. DoubleTree by Hilton, 36th/8th at 10?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good boy.”

I smirked as I slid my phone into my coat pocket as it billowed out behind with a wintry gust tunneling down Broadway. Tyler. He was a great lover — slightly older than the type I usually go for but always able to get me begging and tingling all over from his incessant teasing. My cock jumped in anticipation.

“Shh. Don’t move, don’t look.”

Tyler’s hands gently pushed my face away as he fixed the blindfold over my eyes. There was that slight shiver. Half of the game is anticipation. I was spread-eagle on the bed, stark naked. And so was he. My head was resting on my right shoulder. I felt his knees spread my legs wide open as he crouched over me. My senses were in hyper-drive already and we had barely begun. I could sense his presence over my neck.

I jumped as his tongue made contact with my neck. But my hands were restrained by his. They came from nowhere. I felt his weight suddenly on my palms as he pressed me down deeper onto the bed.

“Don’t move.” And his weight left my palms just like that. But the assault had just begun. And my cock swelled even more.

His long, slender fingers slid down my throat, along my collarbone and traced patterns on my pecs before zeroing in on my nipples already at attention. His mouth laid gentle kisses on my neck as he played with my nipples, while I tried to stay as still as possible. It was mission impossible. He continued to blow and casino şirketleri lay air kisses all over my body as he made his way down. Those little puffs of air skimming just right above my skin, teasing and pushing. It was a sensory assault of the highest level as every inch of my skin tingled and I ached with frustration. Keeping myself still was the hardest challenge of them all. I knew what my punishment would have been if I had disobeyed. There will be collateral damage as he denied what I wanted the most.

My little cries and whimpers of frustration seemed to turn him on even further as he stretched out the torture. This session has been the longest yet, and the end is nowhere in sight as he repeated the pilgrimage along my pecs and abs.

He moved to my inner thigh, the base of my cock and balls nuzzling up against his five-o-clock shadow. I could not see him but I could picture the scene. I am not sure which is worse, not seeing or just picturing. That friction and slight roughness brought the experience to a whole new level. The sadistic bastard had to know.

“Tyler, please.”

“All in good time, baby boy. You are so hot and gorgeous, I can’t stop.” He trailed his fingers. I could see him in my mind’s eye. He would be lying prone between my legs, his fingers trailing up and down my thighs, my cock barely inches from his face.

And then he swallowed. He engulfed my cock entirely in his mouth without any warning, I could feel the back of his throat. I groaned as I stretched out my arms towards him. He let go of my cock with a pop.

“Don’t move or else.”

The latent threat was evident. And I backed down, as he commanded. I could feel my palms curling into fists, my toes pointed as my whole body tingled and sizzled with his expert ministrations. His tongue slid around my balls as they traveled lower towards my hairless crack. He homed in on the exact spot and prized me open. All the while fingers still playing with my abs, thighs, and balls. My back had arched off the bed as his fingers gently pushed my lower half deeper down. His fingers left my body and I could hear the pop of a bottle of lube. I trembled in anticipation of the cool liquid that would soon give me what I had always wanted.

Tyler never disappointed. His tongue left, only to be replaced with his fingers. I felt him stretch out above me and move. I felt the mattress depress on either side of me. He should be straddling my chest now, right? And then I felt him. I could not help but my mouth curved into a slight grin. I knew he was smiling too. He had to be. His free hand ripped off my blindfold. I blinked and I was right. His cock was right in my face, ready for the taking.

“Tell me what you want, boy.”

“Your cock, Tyl-sir.”

“Say that again. I didn’t hear you.”

“Your cock, sir.”

And I took him. Deep like he did. He gasped. I suckled and licked his 7-inch cock like a popsicle on Fourth of July. It was a dessert, only he had not served the main course yet. His fingers kept exploring in my ass, prying me open wider with each pass. His other free hand fondled my cock and balls as he fed me his.

“I think you casino firmaları are ready now.” He murmured as he pressed into that spot deep inside me, with his cock in my throat. I looked up at him, my brown to his electric blue, our irises dilated with lust.

He gave me what I wanted. His cock, hard and fast, in my ass. He flipped me over onto my stomach and he leaned his entire body weight onto me.

“I know you can take daddy’s weight. You work out don’t you? Showing off your tight ass, washboard abs, and strong quads to those ladies in the studio? Hoping Allan, the straight instructor, will bite, and those ladies will drool? Right, you little cock tease?” He murmured into my ear as his cock continued to pound into my ass. He shifted ever so slightly, and he drilled deeper into me. His tongue trailing along my ear, jabbing rapidly, mimicking his cock.

“Yeah daddy! Please, harder. So what daddy? Wish you were there to tie me to the machine? A workout fuck?” I wanted Tyler and he knew it. Goading him would get me closer. I could feel the ridges of his own six-pack against my back as he thrust harder. The bristles of his manscaped chest tickled my back and contoured his amazing pecs. His biceps bulged as he yanked my torso up into a baby cobra pose.

“Mine,” and he bit down onto my neck which I had bared to him.

“Fuckkkkk.”

“You feel so good.”

He gripped me tighter as we both moaned into the fuck for god knows how long.

“I want to come.”

“In me please sir.”

“Since you have been such a good boy… But I want to see you come first.”

“Where?”

“All over me and you.” Tyler sat back on his haunches with his cock still deep in me, and carefully flipped me over onto my back without breaking contact, while I enjoyed the show. Sweat, mixing with my precum and the hot, heady smell of man-on-man sex. I slid my nails over his back, forcefully. I was going to leave marks, but he loved it. He is a total manwhore, and so am I; we both knew it.

His hands gripped around my cock, sliding up and down my rock-hard pole as he continued pounding away at my ass.

“I am going to come.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Yes. Don’t stop please. Please. Fuckkkkk.”

I clenched hard as I came all over his hands my abs and his. I could feel his cock in me keenly. He too tensed, and I knew he was close. Then I felt the surge of scalding hot cum in my ass.

“That was…”

“Phenomenal.” He said tenderly as he kissed me gently on the lips like an old-school gentleman, only we both knew that he was anything but. I caught his bottom lip with my teeth and gently tugged. He caught the hint and inched closer to me.

“Stay in me for a bit more,” as I felt him soften. He was on his forearms, planked over me, while my fingers traced senseless patterns on his back. We were caught in that post-coital bliss, fading away into oblivion, as New York dropped deeper into the night around us.

“ERIK! What are you doing here, in New York?”

“Juan! Small world! I live and work here now, you?”

“Same, just moved from LA this past fall.”

“Oiga, you are still into all things güvenilir casino Latin American right? Dinner and drinks at Café Argentino on Neuquen in Williamburg this Friday? You know that place?”

“Of course. Best choripan and sánguche de milanesa in the city. It’s Borinquen, not Neuquen. That’s in Argentina, Juanito. ¿Vale? Sometimes, I think I am more Latino than you, hombre.”

“Papas, patatas! Tengo que ir! Text you laters. See you there!!” And off he went, twisting out of our little bubble on the sidewalk.

I caught a reflection of myself in the glass windows of a passing café. He looked good and professional, in that Michael Kors coat and an understated Dustin Klein backpack. He belonged here in the City. That army of young, gay professionals. But I wondered who he is. Who is this person claiming to be me? That is a great question.

To the 25-year-old me, fall quarter of my freshman year in college felt like an eternity away. But that is where this story must begin.

“Touchdown by UCLA!”

The whole Rose Bowl roared and stampeded with approval. With less than a minute left to the end of the game, there was no way Stanford could score another touchdown to overcome our lead. We had won, and we all knew it. I was 21 and a freshman. Older than most, I know. But I had just spent two years after high school traveling around the world and working at the family business. I ran a hand through my hair as we jumped around with the freshmen from my dorm who had all decided to watch the game together.

There he was. He was impossible to miss in that form-fitting UCLA tee and tight skinny jeans. The world seemed to stop on its axis for that split second, the background noise dulling to a throb. He had to be just about an inch or two shorter than my six-foot frame. His pale skin a contrast to my tan. I wanted to look away before he saw me, but I could not. Yet, for some reason, he turned around. Caught, red-handed. Was he checking me out? He could not hear me in this din. But I could give a smile, the toothpaste commercial smile that has gotten me more than a few shots of teeth-whitening cum over the years. Fuck he was cute with that perfectly coiffed hair and lithe body.

“Let’s go get fuckeddddd uppp!!!!”

I felt this sudden weight on my shoulders and neck. Before I could jump two rows down to claim that walking wet dream, I was claimed. I felt myself yanked backwards. An arm sleeved with tattoos was on my chest, and I was flush against another hot male’s. Ah fuck I knew how this looked.

My newfound best friend, Brett who looks gayer than he is straight. We bonded over my electric blue highlights, which I had put in my hair on Wednesday in preparation for the game. It was a goodbye to the uppity corporate world which I had immersed myself in for the past year.

He was the walking stereotype of a Bay Area hippie barista. I leaned my head back onto his shoulders in despair, fingertips trailing over the tattoos sleeving his slim but strong forearms. If this was going to go down, might as well have some fun.

“You just cock-blocked me asshole.”

“Well you are cute and mine.” He threw a wink and blew a kiss in my face. Double fuck.

I told myself after the debacle that was high school I would never ever mess with straight guys interested in taking a walk on the side. But what if they wanted to mess with me?

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *