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and he pulled down my boxers. I was naked except for my socks and he had a hand wrapped around my cock. He was still wearing his shorts when he knelt in front of me and stuck out his tongue to lick at my cock.

      Standing there in my living room—where for some weird reason I seem to have more sex than in my bedroom—I closed my eyes and focused on his lips sliding up and down my shaft. He had a hand on my hip and the other was following his lips up and down my shaft. I started to pump forward a little but I didn’t want to get too excited. I knew I had to fuck him. I knew that was what he wanted.

      I pushed him off my cock and stroked it a little while he was still on his knees looking up at me. He had pulled his dick out of his shorts and was stroking it and we both just watched each other pump our cocks for a few minutes before I knelt down in front of him. I pushed him back on the rug and pulled his shorts and underwear off over his sneakers. He moved to take them off and then I thought, leave them on. I’ve always wondered why in porn movies sometimes—usually ones about jocks or whatever—the guys are buck naked and fucking with their sneakers on. I mean, how did those situations come to pass? I used to wonder. It’s not like most guys walk around naked and leave their socks and sneakers on when they have sex; and it’s not really all that easy to get your clothes off with your sneakers still on. It was just some dumb porn invention, I thought, but as I was looking down at The Rich Kid, buck naked and hot on the rug with a hand wrapped around his cock and his sneakered legs in the air, I thought, I get it, this is kind of hot. Anyway, I told him to stay there and I hopped up for a condom. In the process I pulled my socks off. Even though it was hot to bone him with his sneakers still on after a run, I didn’t need to be wearing my socks—it made me feel like Fred MacMurray from one of those old rerun shows.

      I ripped open the condom and rolled it down my cock while I was walking back to him. I lubed up my stick and got down on the floor again. I got a pillow off the couch and put it under his ass and without much prep—I was pressed for time—I lined my cock up with his chute and pushed it inside. I love watching a guy’s face—no matter how experienced a bottom he is—when my cock-head first passes his sphincter. It’s always that mixture of pain and surprise and then total excitement. I grabbed onto his ankles and slid my cock farther into his ass. He let go of his cock, which was half hard, and let his hands fall to his side. I started to pump my dick in farther and deeper until my balls were slapping his ass and I was in all the way.

      His nuts were shaking in their sack each time I slammed my cock all the way home and his head was thrashing from side to side. I looked at the clock on the table and knew that Lizzie would be here soon and so I sped it up. I started to fuck him faster and faster and he noticed the renewed vigor and opened his eyes in surprise. He told me that he wanted to ride me and I fucked him with a few more fast and deep strokes and then dismounted. I lay down on my back on the floor and then he straddled me and then brought himself down into a crouch. He grabbed my cock and aimed it at his hole and then he sat down slowly on my cock. With it in deep he started to rock back and forth and to try to massage my cock with his ass muscles. I guess I had an ecstasy grin on my face because he looked at me and was like “What’s funny?” and when he said it he squeezed his ass round my cock.

      “Nothing. Nothing at all,” I told him. “Just your ass makes me feel so fucking good right now.” There’s nothing like complimenting a bottom on his prowess mid-fuck to get him going. He started to bounce up and down on my cock with vigor. His cock was flapping around and had gotten fully hard again. Each time he pushed himself down on me his cock would flap down and a drop of pre-cum would hit my stomach.

      I wanted to fuck the cum out of him; I love to feel a guy’s ass spasm around my cock when he pumps out his load. But before I could grab his dick—great minds think alike I guess (or horny ones at least)—he sat down hard on my cock and leaned forward, putting his weight on my chest with one hand. With the other he grabbed his cock and started jerking it really fast. His ass started moving slower and slower over my cock and I tried to slam my hips up to keep it going while I knew he was about to explode.

      He leaned back a little like he was riding a mechanical bronco, let go of my chest, and he rubbed his ass lips hard and tight up my pole and then let his load fly. His cum splattered out onto my stomach and into my belly button and his ass kept contracting and tightening around my cock. He was still for a few seconds while his orgasm overtook him, and I just watched his face and his body and got even hotter. When he finally let go of his spent cock and loosened his ass a little, I grabbed his hips and started to fuck his ass hard. But the position wasn’t working for me and so he hopped off and bent over the couch.

      With his hands on the seat of the couch and his legs spread, his sneakers still on, I slipped my cock back into his ass. He moaned as I entered from this angle and then tried to focus on making his hole tight and keeping my cock inside. It felt glorious, which sounds lame, but it really did. His ass was amazing at massaging a cock and his ass had mine going. I used a free hand to rub his cum around my stomach and massage it into my abs. This position was great and I was looking down at his narrow, ripped back and the interplay of the muscles and I slapped his ass a few times and let loose. I came hard, slamming my cock hard into his ass and filling the condom with cum.

      With my cock still in his ass he kind of stood up and I wrapped my hands around his tight abdomen and ran them over his stomach and up toward his pecs while my cock still spasmed out a few aftershocks inside him. We broke away and I collapsed back onto the couch and looked at the clock. I was so fucked.

      4

      The Ride

      So Lizzie isn’t talking to me. Well, not really but sort of. She was pissed that I made her wait downstairs for like fifteen minutes while I finished packing. When I got in the car she told me I was a prima donna and I was like, whatever, and made a comment about the two suitcases she had in the trunk for a three-day weekend. There was going to be nowhere for Tommy to put his shit, let alone sit, in the back of her tiny convertible. She told me not to worry and then looked at me and could tell I had something to tell her.

      “Spill,” she said as she pulled out into the traffic.

      So I told her why I was really late and she rolled her eyes and told me I was a little fucker. Pretending to be hurt I was like, “You think it’s little?”

      “Fuck off,” she said with an amused smile. “I can’t believe you kept me waiting downstairs so that you could get some tail. For God’s sake, don’t you ever get enough?”

      “Well, yeah,” I said, pausing for a minute, “but I mean, what’s really enough?” She didn’t answer and I continued with, “You know when opportunity knocks—”

      “Oh please.”

      “Sorry,” I said.

      So after like two minutes of silence during which I feared she might really be pissed, she told me that she talked to Zoe this morning who told her that Liza was going to be at reunion. Liza and her whole saga I’ll get to later, but Zoe is a whole other bag of problems. Lizzie and I were both friends with Zoe in college but Lizzie has a much higher tolerance for overly high-maintenance people and so she’s kept in touch with her much better through the years than I have. I hear from Zoe like every few months and usually can only talk to her if I’m medicated. Our conversations are usually about her and when I’ll get the pleasure of seeing her, and sometimes I totally zone out and watch porn on the computer while she babbles on.

      But Lizzie says I’m too hard on her, that’s she not that bad. And other than a few phone calls a year and a dinner or two I don’t really have much interaction with her so it’s fine. But like a year and a half ago, a few months after I started the blog, I was dating impossibly beautiful Reese. He’s the one I thought was a total asshole when I first met him but then subsequently fell for. And one night, while I was waiting for Reese to pick me up, Zoe called and told me that he’s her cousin. They had seen each other at some family affair and somehow I came up and she felt she needed to call and warn me about him. She told me that while he was handsome and suave and all that, he was a user and an asshole and that I should be wary. I cut her off and ignored her advice.

      Well wouldn’t you know,

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