Feeling proud of himself, Matt arched his ass higher, pushed up against Vince’s downstrokes, clenched during the upstrokes. He was rewarded by Vince’s satisfied moans.
Vince came shortly thereafter, jabbering through the whole thing, like anyone needed a play-by-play on the fact that he was coming.
When Vince extracted himself, Matt worried whether his colon would spill out as well. He wondered if his sphincter would ever be the same again. He registered the sudden absence of cock as a physical loss, as something to be mourned.
He was comforted by the knowledge that, if things went as planned, he would have that cock in him twice more before checkout time.
One condom down. Six to go. Matt and Vince took a vodka shot in celebration.
Then it was Matt’s turn.
He had never rimmed, had looked forward to doing so, wanted to become a connoisseur in all things ass.
Vince assumed the splayed-frog position on the bed. His massive ball sack cascaded down the pillow that supported his hips.
Matt admired the view. He preferred his men at least moderately furred from the waist down, but had to admit that body hair in Vince’s case would have detracted from his sculpted physique. Everything—from the arch of his feet to his solid thighs to his bubble butt—was exquisitely crafted with one purpose in mind: to elicit lust.
Matt zeroed in on Vince’s hole. Locked in the target coordinates. Lowered his head and prepared to make a soft landing with his tongue.
Bella’s voice rang out. (Vince was channeling her, obviously.)
“Oh, honey, I got to warn you! I ate a mess of beans for lunch. Beans and broccoli and garlic. I feel a blowout coming. Evacuate all civilians!”
Matt lost his composure. Laughed so hard he snorkeled.
Matt tried rimming again—and one more time after that before giving up.
Vince foiled both attempts. He squealed like a stuck pig one time. The next time he started singing “The Hills Are Alive” fromThe Sound of Music.
“Sorry baby,” Vince grinned through an apology. “I just love watching you laugh. Your eyes squint adorably. Lucky for me, you’re a happy drunk.”
Matt had not realized he was drunk. Thought he was still in the buzzed phase.
“Matty baby! You blew past “buzzed” a while ago. “Buzzed” is a tiny spot in your rearview mirror!”
One more first for Matt: first time drunk.
Matt took a quick census of his faculties. Other than a slight blurring of his vision and speech, everything else seemed to be in working order. His cock wasn’t impaired. It stood there impatiently, ready for action.
“New game plan,” Matt announced. “No pre-game warmup for you. As soon as I get this condom on, we’re going straight to kick off.”
Matt tore open the package, extracted the condom and unfurled it over his dick. It was a snugger fit than he’d expected.
Vince sat up and played the doting mother making sure her little boy was ready for his first day of school. He fussed over the condom,tugging it down in places, twisting it in others. Then he patted the tip lovingly, beaming with maternal joy.
Matt opted for the missionary position. What it lacked in originality was compensated for by easy access to Vince’s mouth—not for kissing, but rather so Matt could clamp a hand over it to quell the incessant blathering. Matt wondered if this was what having sex with Robin Williams was like.
Matt liked Vince. Enjoyed his company. Just wished he’d shut up during sex.
Vince’s hole was tight, pressed together by the tectonic force of all those gluteal muscles. Turn-coal-into-diamonds tight.
Matt’s cock breached the hole and fought its way through the claustrophobic narrows. Good soldier that it was, it battered its way past Vince’s prostate. Its mission was to plant the flag six inches deeper, so about seven inches in.
Toward that end, Matt forced Vince’s legs apart and pushed them back towards his chest, folding him into himself, his hole more accessible.
Matt watched his dick rock in and out of Vince’s hole. Played with the angles by adjusting the pressure on Vince’s legs. At one end of the spectrum Matt’s cock was parallel to the mattress. At the other end, which Matt preferred, his cock was nearly vertical. Math and science. Who knew they could be so beneficial?
Matt felt his orgasm building. Sensed its imminence as if the torpedoes were loaded, the tubes flooded, but there was no captain to order “FIRE!”
