Choking on Testosterone Part III

(Note: Apologies to all you guys for the last story break -- didn't mean to be such a severe edger master. Or a cock blocker. Just freaked about cyber demons destroying my words. Hope this makes up for it. T'booty)

With my raging diamond-cutter soaking the front of my sweat pants ahead of me, we broke through the door and two steps later, crashed into the back side of a body standing just inside the entryway. The forward thrust of my mass caused a fall forward with me landing right on top of him. "What the fuck..." my brain tried to reason as I felt the muscled shoulders and neck with my chest and face.

It was moments later when a massaging clench around my stiff pecker seemed to be feeding sex balm through my sweats and my lust-hunger made me aware that my hips were humping the hard-yet-pliant ass-gully beneath me. My cock was continuing its efforts to find a way through the fabric to bore like that heat seeker it was. An awareness of the faint scent of herbal shampoo and musk stirred my nasal passages, and realizing my lips were making tiny kisses while my tongue was drawing faint circles, murmuring needy and urgent grunts, and whispered affirmations and promises of deep, mind-altering fucking, with a strength previously unknown to me, I pulled my body up with almost exactly the same speed and power that I had laid it low.

Beneath me was the back of a dark haired head, a white tee-shirt that was too tight, revealing a triangular patch of black hair and a pair of blue jeans with a seriously dampened area where my cock had just been rutting. My eyes continued down the long legs and there they were -- hairy ankles.

"Hairy Ankles!"

Had I shouted it out loud? Really?

In shock, I looked up toward his head just as he turned to face me, raising his torso up on one arm. His brow was heavy over eyes that can only be described as come-fuck-me eyes, lids heavy over a smoldering pair of deep brown eyes, brows nearly knitting together over his strong, Aquiline nose. Geezus, were his lips moist and quivering? See what choking on testosterone can do to a young buck... or two young bucks as it seemed to be at this moment? Only we were not going to snort and try to lock horns to the death, the victor off to impregnate the heard. Well, actually, we were snorting, and there were horns. It almost seemed as though my foot should be stomping on the floor and pawing at the wood boards. Instead, without saying a word, I reached for his arm and pulled him straight up and into my arms with a power up that very moment was unknown to me.

Neither of us said a word, heads slightly bent down, eyes never losing contact as I guided him down the short hall to my bedroom where I pushed him back onto the mattress on the floor and kicked the door closed behind me, pulling my shirt over the top of my head. He had already pulled his tight tee off and with one hand, he was yanking my sweats over my thighs as he unbottoned his jeans and began to shrug them down those incredibly hairy legs, powerfully built and the object of my obsession.

Naked,we both pushed the dirty sweat socks, underwear, empty pizza box, and soccer ball from the mattress while we grappled with each other, vying for dominance, yet not wanting to miss the powerful touch of each others' flesh against our own naked flesh. Our cocks waved in the space between us, his a perfectly formed, shaft with mushroom head, smooth and white; mine, a thick cudgal of veiny flesh, sharply curving up toward my hairy belly, the head of which appeared to be a broad cap with a sharp brim that cut sharply back to the shaft. Secretly, I was always afraid that some day I would be fucking some guy, and like a dog, my cock would get stuck in his ass, the sphincter unwilling to open at the base of my head. I pondered keeping a bucket of cold water beside the bed to throw on myself if such a situation ever did occur.)

Up on my knees, one between his legs, I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him onto his back, following him closely with my face at the base of his throat, tongue tracing up the stubbled jaw line. He groaned and lifted on leg up onto my hip and I could see his balls pull up, revealing that hairy taint I had so long fantasized about. I dove down to his crotch, my mouth snurfling in the hairy crack of his ass, my tongue wetting the hairs, my fingers brushing them aside to reveal the brownish pink of his pucker. Like a pearl diver, my tongue pushed into the pucker. I don't know which of us groaned with more need. His hands were pulling my ears in an effort to f***e me deeping into his center. My hands were running up and down his furry legs and then pushing them up and back, revealing the most gloriously fuckable ass I had ever seen.

I looked to his face for confirmation of what his body was telling me, as if I could have controlled myself from impaling him on my cock. There it was, that all too familiar look, the guy I'm about to screw really realizes what my cock both feels and looks like: fear. I grabbed the lube and began to tenderly annoint his sacred center, my fingers gently pushing into him, working more and more into him and over his ass cheeks, from tailbone to balls, lathering him richly in the lube. As if a biological spell has been cast upon my hormone-flooded body, it calms itself, sensing the apprehension of the receiver which might deny the completion of this sexual dance, not allow this penetration and seeding.

"That's it baby," I hear myself cooing into his face, my eyes willing him to calm, my fingers offering their ministrations to his hole. "See how you are, baby, so fucking beautiful, such a good baby, your hard ass has got me so hot, baby, I'm gonna' make you feel so good, baby, you gonna let me in, now baby, please let daddy in, baby..." I mutter on and on, waiting for that single moment of acquiescence, the vulnerable overtaking of the defended rectum. A momentary, powerful realization intersperses with my focused seduction, and I consider this powerful man I am holding in my arms, the jaw line closely shaven yet blueblack stubble just detectable, broad brow drenched in sweat and slicked with his wavy brown hair, incredibly long, black eyelashes splashed with tiny beads of perspiration. He is such a stud, such a prime piece of hunk and he is in thrall to me. I hear only the pounding of bl**d coursing through my heart, the ragged breathing of the both of us and then I feel the tension release in the small of his back, and he relaxes at the very moment I can wait no longer wait, and I plunge the fullness of my curved cock through his momentarily relaxed sphincter.

He cries out, betrayal momentarily crossing his face, then a gasp of abandonment to the excruciating pleasure he is feeling from the glide of my prick over the tender tissues of his anal canal, nerve endings igniting in a dull, throbbing ache confused by a pleasure that warms and spreads through his entire gut, his skin flusing and mottling with rushing bl**d, immediate microscopic pores opening, casting a glistening sheen across his shoulders, pecs, neck and torso. His entire body involuntarily shudders. His expression pleads for more, begs to be moved even higher into the atmosphere of rarified air that only we, locked in coition, are privvy to experience. His begging becomes participation, becomes a giving of himself, an utter deliverance of his body to me, acknowledging that we are as one, engaged in this very moment a powerful and personal act of being human at its most primal state. His energy and his entire being is drawing from me, as I am from him, our energy mixing, blending, enflaming. We are no more the dominant and the submissive, the overtaker and the overtaken, the master and the slave. We are two men ascending; two men engaged, our chemistry mixing together and lifting us, profoundly imbued with the essence of manhood shared, knowledge-filled with acceptance, gratitude, humility, honor and unmatchable strength. This is the stuff of myth and legend, the Sacred Band of Thebes, duos so bound in their love and devotion, they fought and defeated armies of ancient Greece. Yes, this is sacred, this profound connection.

Our bodies moved more and more together, our movements synchronizing in the tribal lust dance of men fucking. My upper thighs pushed his legs father apart as I lay on top of him and my cock's ever-stalwart journey to the center of his universe. I met resistance, the surprised pained look in his eyes and I slowed almost impeceptibly to a stop, holding the head right against the terrible walnut of his prostate, my cockhead pulsing with each heart beat, knowing he is experiencing each throb of my tool against that most profound gland. I looked into his face intently, patient for him to breathe and relax. He grimaced as if disappointed in himself for slowing this process. But then I realized that he was drawing me into him with more energy, the look of disappointment not about himself, but about me, as if saying, "can't you see, you fucker, can't you tell that I will endure whatever you give me because I have given all to you and I am demanding that you give all to me. Demanding."

I draw back by cock, my breathing jagged and catching as I struggled to control my mounting orgasm. He is glaring up toward me, his mouth a rictus of effort to control his own cumming. I glance toward his cock, straining toward his navel, full and throbbing and oozing viscous juices. One leg is balanced on my shoulder, the other hooked behind my ass, waiting to pull me into himself. I reach for his foot on my shoulder and I feel the bristling hair, luxurious to his Achilles tendon. My eyes focus on that furry ankle and a spark ignites in my bowels and shoots into my balls. As I take that ankle between my lips, I have lost all control and I bite down hard on the tendon as my nasty cudgal breaks through the ass lips one final time. A gutteral, heartbreaking groan fills the steaming room as my cock plows unrestrained, gliding over the hardened prostate, breaking through yet another ring of muscle deep inside him. His gasp nearly sucks the air out of my lungs as my tongue searches the inside of his mouth in a hungry kiss. The tight internal ring clamps around the ridge of my cock head and squeezes, his anal canal involuntarily gripping and pulling me deeper into him and his outer sphincter exerts a most exquisite squeeze at the base of my cock, my balls unloading as they rest against his taint. The convulsion of my body unleashes an anguished cry from me, a cry the origins of which are from our shared primordial mud and existence. Grunting, I continue to rut, dumping load after load of jizz into him, my imperative accomplished.

Will the praying mantis now eat his mate? Yet again, I understand why he does not defend himself, the lassitude of post coital exhaustion completely enervating.

Still, his hips are bucking up onto me, rocking against my pubic bone, his leg demandng further invasion. I know his cock is unloading, spasming and convulsing between our furry bellies, unloading thick curds of sperm-laden spunk between us. I cannot tell if he is laughing or crying, his hands mashing my face into his own, our teeth crashing together, our lips dangeously close to gnashed by their sharpness and the v******e of our kissing. We are in an unnatural tangle of arms, legs, heads and torsos. His right leg is fully extended over his shoulder and head, the left leg wrapped around my hip ad ass, the foot hooked under my left arm which pushes the back of his thigh down toward the mattress. My left leg is bent double and perched like a racer at the running block, leveraging every ounce of weight I could muster to push my cock as deeply into his asshole as I could accomplish. My right leg was scissored with his left leg, yet still his ankle, the hairy ankle, was mysteriously near our faces, my head only needing to turn to the right to reach out my tongue and like the moisture from the kinky dark brown hair that had started this entire encounter.

We drift and gasp, and soon we are asl**p, tied in this knot of legs and arms, my cock still deep inside him. It is the dreams of the utterly fucked that we dream, content, gluttinous in our lust for each other, now sated and grunting in our satisfaction.

Hours pass and I soon hear the voices of my house mates. I stir and look into the opening eyes of Hairy Ankles. Shit. I don't even know his name, let alone know what the hell he was doing in my house. Lust. Horniness. When I'm this clogged with testosterone, I'd give away my grandmother for a hot piece of ass.

I roll a few inches away from him, and the acrid smell of cum, sweat... well the smell of some seriously excellent fucking, rolls like a hot wave across both of our faces. We giggle. We outright giggle together.

"By the way," I ask. What the fuck are you doig in my house?" My hand rubbing the dried cum from his hairy belly, hoping to get his cock interested in fucking me.

"I got booted out of my apartment when my housemates caught me sucking cock last night. Richie, one of your housemates said it would be cool if I could sl**p on your couch for a few days until I find another place to live. Told me the door would be unlocked and to just come in and make myself at home. I had just gotten outta my Chem lec... Hey, wait a minute," he ponders, drawing back from me.

He squints and draws back even more. "Aren't you in Prof. Hoffmann's Chem Lecture with me?"

I grin back, "yeah, I have Hoffmann. You in that class, too?"

(Hope this makes up for the lousy story break I made after the last chapter. Dump a load for me. T'booty)
100% (7/0)
Categories: AnalGay Male
Posted by Timbooty
3 years ago    Views: 245
Comments (6)
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3 months ago
Isn't manmating powerful, mysterious and exquisite! Beautifully written. I am now going to nutt
2 years ago
Well Done!
I am now fully engulfed in previscous fluids.
3 years ago
This story makes me want you to fuck me!! x
3 years ago
Good thing its morning wow thanks needed that early
3 years ago
thank god you finished it !!!!!!!
3 years ago
Oh, my, to the hell yes! That more than makes up for the tease of the second part! I love how it isn't just the physical, as glorious as that can be, but includes the mental and even spiritual aspects that often go unacknowledged. You probably get tired of hearing this (ha, ha!) but you are a gifted writer, evocator, and provocateur! You should be published!