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From: GenericJoe <genericjoe@vnet.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Thoughts of Him (FMM, MM) GenericJoe
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Date: Wed, 15 Dec 1999 20:10:01 -0500
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Well, there I was in the middle of a perfectly good MF Rom story, when
Tamara sends me an email and sparks an idea. Then within a few hours
this pops out. I never can tell what sort of story --if this can be
called a story --I will write, or wants to be written.
This is probably my shortest narrative work ever.
I appreciate comments from anyone. I will also respond to any comments
I receive. I realize since this is MM I may get slightly less comments
than I normally. {Well less usually == none} Still, I enjoy knowing
if these stories affect people. Good or bad, even.
Thanks to Tamara for inspiring and proofing this short piece.
Enjoy.
----------------------------
Thoughts of Him By GenericJoe <genericjoe@vnet.net>
What, he wonders, will it feel like to have a man beside him again?
The feel of someone else's cock against his own flesh, rubbing, sliding.
Between his legs. Touching his own ready hardness?
And the man's lover there, too. What would it feel like to be between
two lovers? Her tits pressed against his back; her hand over them both,
pushing and pulling them together. Her leg over his, rubbing her wetness
against his thigh.
He remembers the hotel room. Frank's smooth black body next to his pale
white one. Jane behind him, touching him with her hand and nothing else.
He loses himself in the soft skin of his black lover. Rubbing, sliding,
moving. Coming. White jism on ebony skin.
By this time Jane is gone. Frank is still there and gay and doesn't
care about his wife. He thinks, All he cared about was my hand,
rubbing his cock up and down. So soft. So hard. So hot.
When *will* he feel that again?
And will he love him this time? Will he like him?
Will the man want more from him, too? Emotion, love, even tenderness?
Will the man be as mad for him as *he* was for Frank? He wonders, will
he lose himself in me, if only for a moment?
What does a penis taste like anyway? How does it feel, hard inside your
mouth, filling you up. How does it taste, flaccid, wet, surrounded by
bitter come?
Frank hadn't had any condoms or tests. It wasn't planned -- it just
happened.
If it had been, would the small man have sat on the side of the bed while
he knelt -- his mouth going up and down Frank's cock? Would there be
someone to do that? Would they want it?
Once, someone had done that for him. He'd fled before he could get the
courage to return the favor. But he hadn't even liked him, even if his
mouth did feel warm and wet and good as it sucked vacuum-like on his cock,
drinking his sperm. No one else, male or female had ever done that.
Would he do it, maybe? Would he?
What will it feel like to have a man beside him again?
And he thought then of all the other places that men had on their
bodies. Useless nipples worthy of kisses. The fold of flesh between the
cheeks of an ass where a cock can slip back and forth and down into an
entirely new place.
Hands to kiss and rub with. Arms to hold and legs to watch.
Skin to touch and feel. Would he be soft or dark or hairy? What will he
smell like? What shade the hair under his armpits, on his chest, in a
tuft around his balls? Or will he shave, skin smooth and hairless, like
Frank, who had cared for his skin -- it was smooth as a baby's bottom,
especially his bottom.
He remembered, cupping it with his hands as he rode, his cock sliding
on Frank's crotch, cocks rubbing together. Hands touching those tense
muscular thighs.
Would the new man have tight muscles? Will he be tight and angular or
soft and cuddly? Does it matter?
What will his voice be like when he comes? A gentle Southern drawl?
A deep groan of release? Or will he shout, announcing his orgasm to
the world? What is his singing voice like?
No man had ever sung to him, but he wanted to be held, encapsulated and
sung to. Lullabies. Sweet reassurances. Head leaning on hairy shoulder,
rocked back and forth and protected.
And if his woman comes to them then, and wraps her arms around them,
naked and inviting, what then? What if Jane would have done that for
Frank? Would he have cared?
What will it feel like to have a man beside him again?
And the image flashes through his mind: on his front, legs spread, a man
behind him, sliding up and down his ass cheeks, warming the once-cold
lubrication. He slows, and shifts, poised at the gateway inside.
He shivers. What man to do that? What would it be like to be filled
that way?
Or bending a man double beneath him, looking down at him between his legs.
Sliding into him, moving up and down. What would it feel like, sunk deep
into him? Would he feel the other man's balls, his rigid cock pressing
against him?
Or, maybe, fucking the man's wife, reveling in her more familiar feminine
flavors. Self-generated wetness around his cock, the walls of her vagina
pressing in, pulling his cock. He stops, and the man mounts him from
behind, and begins fucking him, his wife through him.
He is just a conduit then, filled up and in turn filling up. Could he
stand it? Would it be too much? Or maybe, Jane riding him, moving,
and the man taking *her* from behind. Would he feel that? The other
man's cock through the flesh of his wife?
Would the man do that, too?
To be *taken* by a lustful man. He knew what a man near orgasm was
slamming in and out of a woman -- he had been that man many times.
What would it be like to have such a man inside him? Mad with lust,
pistoning, driving, coming. Filling him up.
What will it feel like to have a man beside him again?
And then he remembers how Frank kissed him, as they walked hand in hand in
the mountain snow. They'd driven up to the mountains to see the snow and
weren't disappointed. The six foot high drifts hid their amorous attacks.
Will he want to hold me in public? Will he want to have stolen kisses
and hugs? Will he want to just *be* with me?
Or will he just want to find the nearest hotel, so they can not sleep
together, grinding their bodies together in passion.
He thought to himself that he wanted the tenderness, the gentle passion.
The stolen moments of the heart.
It was one thing from a woman -- women were just that way. But a man
being tender was vulnerable, sweet. Sexy. Magical.
He stopped, and rested his head against his clasped hands. Will he be
someone I can love, and hold, and caress? Someone I can grow old with
gracefully, or not? Will he love me in return?
And he hoped so. There were so many hopes for a new man. But he knew
so little.
What would it be like to have a man beside him again?
What would it be like to have him?
What would it be like?
How would it feel to have a man beside him again?
GenericJoe
Journal: http://www.offthebeatenpath.org/genericjoe/journal.php3
Stories: http://www.offthebeatenpath.org/genericjoe/stories.php3 (adult)
--
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are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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