Mikey , Jeff

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Part 11

This continues the account of the five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike’s fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in “Cross-Country with My Uncle,” and continued by “Alice, My Uncle, and Me,” day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and “My Uncle’s Bachelor Party,” parts 1 and 2, wherein Jeff, Mike’s old college roommate and lover, is introduced. This continues Day 4.

Kneeling there between Jeff’s powerful and heavily-furred legs, now well-splayed, I had a nearly irresistible urge to grasp his big fat steely cock in my hands, and to force his smooth and shiny cockhead between my lips and as far into my mouth as I possibly could, so that I would be joined by an incredibly intimate bond with this wonderful, beautiful, talented man I had so recently come to admire, and who I knew liked and respected me too.

But it took only a second of reflection to conclude that it would be only self-indulgence to succumb to this immediate and strong temptation; and that what the situation called for was something far more subtle, yet more powerful, and ultimately much more satisfactory. Lying right before me, Jeff’s body would be my playground. So, resisting the urge to seize his phallus, instead I withdrew to the foot of the bed, and instead began a concentrated campaign on his right foot, ankle and calf. It seemed like an humble part of the anatomy, but in fact it was an entire world, a universe, all in itself. When I held the ball of his foot in my gentle hands, and kissed the great toe, with its little tuft of thick, dark hair, I felt almost as though I was mystically kissing his very heart, and Jeff’s response, a soft almost whispery “Oh, Mikey!” almost pierced my own heart.

Then I gave my attention, seriatim, to the second toe; and then in its turn the third. I was in no hurry, and small, but distinctly appreciative sounds issued from deep in Jeff’s throat.

Recollecting that we were in Alice’s wonderful bedroom, I decided to take a brief break and got off the bed and walked over to the nearby computer and clicked on the icon of the treble clef to access Mike and Alice’s music files. I wanted to get right back to Jeff, so I just clicked on any random file. It turned out to be “FuckMix15,” and almost at once we began to hear Kenny Loggins singing “Celebrate Me Home,” and the lyrics seemed to mean something to Jeff. Loggins’ rendition was joyous; but its effect on Jeff was more equivocal. He was back in California again, yes, and he and Mike had exchanged the most sincere tokens of abiding love; but still, I thought, he was a little uneasy, unsettled. I hastened to resume my exquisitely pleasurable lovemaking to Jeff’s wonderful right foot, with its well-formed muscularity, its prominent tendons, and most of all its remarkable sheathing of dark silken hair along the top of the foot, representing an uninterrupted extension of the dense hair that covered his ankle and calf.

By the time I had advanced up his calf, Rita Coolidge was crooning “We’re All Alone,” and Jeff’s evident anxiety had passed, never to return that afternoon. Instead, as Rita ended her introduction and began, “Close your eyes and dream…..,” Jeff sat up a little, and reached down and ruffled my hair ever so gently, and passed his fingers softly over my ears, and he even softly sang along with Rita. He had such a rich and sonorous timbre in his voice, even when he was singing quietly, hardly voicing his vowels at all. It fuckin’ thrilled me.

But I reached up and put my hand in the middle of his firm, manly chest, and gently shoved him back down, indicating to him thusly that he should relax, just relax, and leave the driving to me, for it gave me intense pleasure to kiss and lick his profoundly hairy calf, so well-formed.

When Rod Stewart began his incredibly bittersweet “Listen to My Heart,” I had already started my infinitely gratifying worship of Jeff’s left foot and, eventually, his ankle, and then lower calf. Again, Jeff murmured along with Stewart, touching my own heart anew.

As much pleasure as I had taken in systematically exploring with my fingers and lips every inch of Jeff’s feet and calves, it was as nothing compared to the joy I took in caressing and kissing his mighty thighs. Now it was Elvis at his very best with a soft rendition of “One Night with You,” as I knelt now between Jeff’s great and powerful legs, and as my fingers threaded through the dense but soft hair of his right thigh, and I pressed my kisses upon his firm skin, I knew I was translated to still yet another plateau of bonding with this wonderful, beautiful, infinitely loveable man. The more I worked my way up his thigh, and ever closer to his genitals, his power over me grew and Büyükesat Escort grew, as I seemed to be drawn to his magisterial cock, throbbing above his hairy belly, now just inches from my face. And yet I was able, somehow, to free myself, a little, from the impossibly powerful pull of his cock and his big, wonderful balls, enough to return to his left knee, and lave and caress his left thigh. Just then the Duprees segued into “You Belong to Me,” as I spread both my hands on his thigh, stroking through the thick, dark hair, and, in the space between my hands, I systematically left a carpet of small kisses; and as the whole procedure moved inexorably northward, toward Jeff’s crotch, now radiating warmth and a wonderful intensely male odor, which acted on me like a powerful perfume. Now Jeff again had his powerful hands on my head, stroking my hair, and actually softly harmonizing with the Duprees as they went into their refrain, … “You be-longggg to meee-eee.” It was paradisiacal.

But there was something in me that wanted even more unrestricted access to Jeff’s body, to pleasure him, to gratify him. I briefly got up and rummaged through the drawer of the bedside table and found something that I had seen a previous day when Mike had opened it seeking some lube. I drew from it a pair of soft but strong terry wristlets, equipped with Velcro fasteners. I saw a few curly golden hairs on them, evidently from Mike’s own wrists from a previous use.

I told Jeff to close his eyes and relax, and he obeyed. I took first his left arm, and fastening the soft and padded fetter around his wrist, I lifted his arm to the headboard and fixed it to the side beam; and then, the same with his right arm, so that now Jeff was spread-eagled, though of course he was able to move his legs freely if he chose, and in fact, had he wished to do so, with his powerfully muscled arms he could have ripped loose the bonds that held his wrists.

But now, truly, Jeff’s fixed and secured body was my playground, a magnificent pleasure garden to enjoy. First I began with his beautiful left forearm, ropy with muscles, and very nearly as hairy as his legs, stroking it, kissing it, as I knelt by his left flank, as Neil Young spun out “Heart of Gold.” Then progressing up to his inner elbow, where the veins so prominent along the ventral side of his forearms were so particularly evident, I kissed and licked the highly innervated supersensitive region, and Jeff gave a little gasp, and opened his eyes and looked lovingly at me.

I progressed to his large, round bicep with my kisses, and then I pressed my face into his left armpit and licked the hugely aromatic dew from the dense, dark hair, and I luxuriated in nuzzling my face into his wonderful axilla. Jeff moaned with pleasure.

With my face still damp with his perfume, I covered Jeff’s head and face with kisses, starting with his left ear, my gentle osculation eliciting still more profound sighs from the object of my adoration.

I kissed his eyebrows, and then, ever so gently, his eyelids, first the left and then the right; and skippingly, I placed a few small kisses on his nose, and, then, straddling his upper body for the first time, so that my oaken cock was pressed against his hairy belly, I leaned down and kissed his densely stubbled left cheek, and then, finally, I pressed my mouth to his. The tip of my tongue found his, and we began a delicate lingual minuet, as the “To Know Him is to Love Him” began its absurd 2 minutes and 23 seconds of infantile pathos: and despite all, it touched me deeply: “Just to see him smile/ makes my life worthwhile.” By stages our refined tongue dance grew more active and vigorous, as we each sought avidly to penetrate the other’s mouth by turns.

This was something that we both were just loving, so I continued on and on and on, during all of “Oh, Darling,” before, with reluctance, I broke, and began a long series of kisses down Jeff’s strong neck, prickly with a thick two-day beard. And from his corded neck, I segued to his right shoulder, with its prominent traps, and then descended to his right armpit, where, very gently at first I used my lips tug and tease at the dense hair. But only for a short time before I began to worship his big, round bicep with scores of kisses. He smiled right into my eyes and muttered, “Yeah, Mikey!” I got off Jeff’s middle, and knelt at his side, in the process dragging my heavy balls across his firm torso, infinitely stimulating me: I could not suppress my gasp.

I continued with my blanket of kisses down to the inner fold of his elbow, and then along his meaty forearm. The outer surface was thickly coated with dark hair: The inner or dorsal side was much smoother, but ridged by a dozen large veins, arranged almost as distributaries Elvankent Escort of a river delta: Crouching now alongside his tethered arm (my toes slightly but definitely touching Jeff’s powerful torso) I smothered the outer side of his arm with one kiss after another, the dense hair tickling my nose, absolutely delighting me. And now, grasping his forearm in both my hands, I began licking the inner arm, my tongue lingering over the ridged veins, as the Bare Naked Ladies chirped “It’s All Been Done,” and then I proceeded to his inner wrist, where the throb of his pulse again recalled to me his precious heart. As I nuzzled his palm, he gently caressed my chin and jaw with his fingers: they were practically the only parts of his upper body that were free to move, but he made the most of it, communicating with his soft strokes on my face his undoubted warm fondness.

I turned a little, and as Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are” unspooled out, I just and sat back on my haunches, and just admired the wonderful man and his incredible body, and that, though in bonds, he looked up at me with a broad smile, and, beaming from his dark eyes purest affection.

Judging from his face, you’d say he was relaxed; but in fact his mighty chest was heaving slightly; and his imperious dick was definitely throbbing: each beat of his heart was mirrored in his absolutely rigid phallus, standing over his lower belly, a tangle of dark hair.

Leaning into him, I put my left hand gently on his chest, just below his large, defined pectoral; and my right hand on his shoulder, all my fingers splayed. And with wicked deliberation, I slowly, slowly eased down and gave his big, dark nip a quite wet kiss, causing him first to gasp, and then to moan as I softly sucked and licked. After a few moments of this, I arched my body over his, with my right knee near his left armpit, and my right knee close to his ribcage, and supporting my upper body with my right hand near his right armpit, and my left, gently, on his right flank, and, taking infinite care that the head of my almost bursting cock caressed his left nipple, still wet from my kisses, again and again; and, wickedly slowly I bent down to take his right nipple between my lips, tonguing it with infinite care, causing him to cry out in pleasure.

Next, I resumed my position kneeling at Mike’s left flank, and, leaning low over his abdomen, I slowly kissed and nuzzled my way down, across the firmly ridged and highly defined eight-pack to his fuzzy navel, and beyond, into the dense forest of his lower belly, such that his great masterful dick helplessly massaged my left ear, and slid through my soft blond hair.

Now at last I was ready to get serious about his phallus. Shifting position, I arranged myself between his big thighs, so I was comfortably sitting cross-legged between his legs, which were correspondingly forced still wider apart. And contemplated the absolutely rigid eight-inch organ, topped with its empurpled hood, shiny at its fullest, most urgent expansion, the shaft ridged with large veins popping out along both the ventral and dorsal surfaces, but also mapped with smaller veins curving and forking along every surface. It throbbed, slowly and steadily, and, slowly, deliberately, I folded my fingers around it, eliciting a huge intake of air from Jeffy, followed by a deep sigh, even though I was only grasping his cock, otherwise not moving my hand.

“Oh, Mikey, Mikey!” he whispered, as I slowly tightened and loosened my grip, again and again, each constriction a little tighter until I was squeezing his dick almost as hard as I could, but it was so steely that it completely resisted compression. I was amazed at its firmness. Leaving off this interesting exercise, I loosened my grip somewhat and began to stroke, very slowly, and Jeff goes “Ah, ahh, ahhh, AAAHHH.”

Even with a great determination to work as slowly and deliberately as possible I felt an nearly irresistible desire stroke a little faster, but I overmastered it, and continued slow, slow, slow, even as Jeff began to moan “God, faster, Mikey, go at least a little faster,” but I would not. Had he not been in bonds, I am sure he could not have born it.

But after long minutes of this, I relented, and gave Jeff a dozen strokes in quick succession, and Jeff goes “Yes, yes, yessss, yesssss!” but then I resumed my slow, slow stroking, even slower than before, ignoring Jeff’s “Aw, Mikey! Gimme a break!” But after two minutes of infinitely slow stroking, I gave Jeff another fast dozen, and a broad smile broke across Jeff’s manfully beautiful face. “Ah, yes!”

And then another long series of exquisitely slow strokes – and eventually relief in the form of another fast dozen, and then I slowed up again. Ya gotta be cruel to be kind. Now, Beşevler Escort for the first time, I bent still more forward and took his glans between my lips as I very slowly stroked, feeling the smoothness on my tongue, and smelling more strongly still his intensely masculine odor. I was slowly caressing his cockhead with my tongue, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

“Hold on, man,” I said as got off the bed, slipped on my little running shorts, and leaned down and kissed Jeff right on the nose. “I’ll be right back,” giving his cock one more squeeze, and leaving Jeff tied down, I answered the bell.

It was of course the wine delivery. The driver was remarkably good-looking: a slim guy of about 5’8″ with piercing green eyes and blond streaked medium-brown spiky hair, maybe 28 years old. His tank top revealed wiry muscles, and below his rather too-tight cutoffs I saw well-defined calves, well-covered with sun-bleached hair. He gave me an unmistakably appreciative once-over – I was wearing only my little shorts, of course – and I directed him into the kitchen, where he stacked the cases, but on the second trip he glanced down the hall and through the partially opened bedroom door, where much of Jeff’s naked upper body was visible, including the terry wristlets fastening his arms to the bed frame.

“Wow, dude, looks like I interrupted something fun,” he said, and instantly there was an even more defined bulge in his tight shorts. “Uh, what’s going on? Can I take a look?”

The very thought horrified me…..at first. Then, I don’t know, the notion sort of struck me funny and I said, “Yeah, man, I guess so,” and he followed me down the short hall and into the bedroom, where beautiful Jeff lay stretched out there, amazingly with his cock seemingly as hard as ever.

I said, “Jeff, this is, uh, Whaddya say your name was?”

“I’m Roddy,” he said. “Man, this is so cool!”

I said, “Roddy, you can look, but you can’t touch.”

Jeff was aghast at this development, or so it seemed. He looked at me and said “Mikey, What the fuck…..?!” But, his phallus did not wilt; in fact, his erection seemed, if anything, subtly to expand, and it bounced in air a little as it throbbed.

“Roddy,” I said, “you can stand right over there,” pointing to the carpet by the side of the bed, mere inches from Jeff’s flank, and again I slipped out of my shorts.

And again I wrapped my big hand around Jeff’s throbbing cock, and Jeff closed his eyes and smiled as I slowly, slowly pumped.

Roddy, however, was anything but relaxed. He pulled out a very impressive cock, utterly rigid, and pointed almost skyward from the placket of his cutoffs, and he wrapped his own right hand around it, and began to match my movements stroke by stroke. After a few moments, he paused and unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop and stepped out of them, hardly missing a stroke; and then, grabbing the hem of his tank top, quickly pulled it over his head and off, and within only a second or two he was totally naked except for his high top boots and sox, again stroking in unison with me, but now with his legs much more widely separately, his lean body now open and free for self-pleasuring. With his left hand he stroked his chest, working his fingers through the hair of his pecs, and slowly he moved it down his belly, and ran his fingers through his public hair, finally settling with his index finger and thumb on one side of his big dick, and the other three fingers on the other, pressing against his pubis as he almost violently pulled on his cock, his big balls swinging in the air with every stroke.

Jeff could hardly bear the slow and stately pace of my stroking: but unlike Roddy, he had no choice, and again I heard him almost sotto voce pleading, “Mikey, pick it up, pick it up, please, I’m begging you!” But I was deaf to his entreaties, and even stopped for a while, merely squeezing and loosening my grip rhythmically, causing something of a grimace temporarily to take shape on Jeff’s beautiful face. But I resumed my measured, loving stroking and a gratified smile reappeared.

Meanwhile, Roddy was approaching paroxysm. Now as he pulled on his cock, he cupped his balls with his left hand, and began to gasp, and then suddenly a long rope of semen appeared on Jeff’s hairy belly, while Roddy continued to stroke, and then another spurt of semen spread itself as fat droplets onto Jeff’s belly. Roddy was done, panting and heaving.

Something about Roddy’s orgasm spurred me to quicken my pace, and his deposit on his belly brought Jeff ever closer to the precipice, and knowing I had extended my tender torture long enough, with a half dozen very definite and deliberate strokes, I brought him to his delicious conclusion, and with a great sigh, he jetted up, way over my ministering hand, his cum settling on my his belly, partly across Roddy’s contribution, and partly on my own fingers and thumb, working steadily as I brought Jeffy to a second ejaculation – a notably smaller spurt – and then, a tertiary expulsion, this time just a bit of creaminess over my hand.

“I love you, man, I really do,” he said to me, still gasping a little, with his eyes still closed.

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