Serenading Stanley (24 page)

“No. I’m sorry. No.”

The robe felt soft against Stanley’s face as he desperately hugged Roger to him. The sheet was bunched up around his waist. Before he knew what was happening, Roger reached down, tugged it away, and sailed it across the room, leaving Stanley naked in the bed.

Stanley pressed his face into the robe Roger wore,
his
robe, all the while blushing up a storm. Then his hunger for Roger overshadowed his embarrassment, and he did some tugging of his own. He tugged open the knotted belt around Roger’s waist and spread the robe wide before him excitedly, eyes wide, like a child opening a present on Christmas morning. The robe slid down Roger’s back and crumpled to the floor.

Roger stood naked and hard before him, waiting to see what Stanley would do next.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Stanley leaned in and planted a kiss on Roger’s flat stomach, closing his eyes to savor the taste and texture of Roger’s skin. Roger stepped closer, and Stanley felt Roger’s cock poke him in the chest. With a firmly indrawn breath, Stanley gripped Roger’s hips and pulled him down onto the bed. Together, they fell back onto the sheets, eyes locked, hearts pounding. Facing each other, cocks hard, bodies trembling, their lips came together. And for the first time, their kiss was uncontrolled. And uncontrollable. Neither of them could hold back any longer.

Since Roger was bigger than Stanley, he took advantage of his size and rolled over to bury Stanley under his broad chest and all-encompassing arms. Roger’s long, fuzzy legs pinned Stanley’s between them in a scissor lock. Gently, but completely.

Yet with all the intensity of Roger’s caress, it was still not enough for Stanley. He drove his tongue into Roger’s mouth as their kiss deepened. He ground his cock into Roger’s thigh. He stroked Roger’s ass, loving the soft firmness of it, the hairy cleft that hid wonders Stanley longed to taste. With his other hand, Stanley played his fingertips up and down the broad strength of Roger’s back. The skin there was as smooth as glass, as hot as fresh-baked bread straight from the oven. He could feel the muscles bunching and twisting beneath his fingertips as Roger squirmed around, enjoying his touch.

Stanley shivered, needing more from the man. Always more.

He coaxed Roger gently off him, and while they lay side by side, facing each other, still clenched together, he buried his face in Roger’s throat. He slid his hungry lips across the stubble on Roger’s jaw, then down Roger’s chest as Roger trembled beneath his kisses. He felt the rubbery stiffness of Roger’s nipple scrape his cheek as he slid his lips farther down, across Roger’s stomach, past his navel, and when he felt the brush of Roger’s pubic hair tickling his chin, Stanley brought his hand up and cupped Roger’s balls, making Roger give a tiny gasp.

Roger rolled onto his back completely then, and Stanley rolled with him, ending up on top. Opening his legs, Roger made himself more accessible to Stanley. Gave Stanley the go-ahead to do whatever the hell he wanted to do. Roger’s hard cock lay waiting for Stanley, and when Stanley scooped the fullness of it into his hand, Roger lifted himself onto his elbows and watched, chewing his lip in anticipation.

With Roger’s eyes on him, and loving that they were, Stanley pressed his lips into the base of Roger’s stone cock. He kissed him there, inhaling the clean scent of the man. Sliding his fingertips up the long shaft, Stanley circled the glans with tantalizing delicacy, and Roger’s hips came up to meet his caresses. Stanley could feel Roger’s legs trembling. Roger’s balls lay heavy and tight in the palm of his hand.

Roger was circumcised, and the head of his cock was beautifully formed, just as beautiful as the rest of him. Stanley should have known it would be.

In the dimming light, Stanley saw a glint of moisture sparkling at the tip of that heavenly cock. With a smile, he pressed his lips to it and kissed it away, making Roger groan.

As hungry as he was for this man beneath him, Stanley did not stop to wonder at his own fearlessness, his own brazen need for the taste of him. Now on his knees between Roger’s legs, which were splayed wide, Stanley slipped his lips over the bulbous head of Roger’s cock and drew it in as deeply as he could. It filled his mouth, and as he sucked at it, he could taste the precome that still flowed from Roger’s slit. He could feel his own precome, too, dripping from his dick as he straddled Roger’s leg. The roughness of the leg hair that scraped at the underside of his glans made Stanley tremble and lurch ever harder against Roger’s thigh.

Roger took a fistful of Stanley’s hair and forced his head to stop moving. Still, Stanley did not release Roger’s cock from the loving ministrations of his hungry mouth.

The heat of Stanley’s mouth and the insistent savoring of Stanley’s eager tongue were driving Roger nuts. He was squirming around like a worm on a hook. His hips came off the bed time and time again as he helped Stanley along by driving his dick as far down Stanley’s throat as he could. He wanted to pull free, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Oh, God, baby, I don’t think I can stop. I’m gonna come. I’m sorry, I—
oh, shit!
”

And Stanley smiled around the head of Roger’s insanely fat cock as it pumped ever harder into his mouth. He laid his tongue above the slit just as Roger’s come tore out of it, filling Stanley’s mouth, pouring down his throat. He felt the force of the orgasm rush across his tongue and splatter the roof of his mouth. It was almost like Roger’s dick was in there with a squirt gun, shooting at everything it could lay its eyes on.

The taste of Roger’s sweet come made Stanley groan in ecstasy. He slurped up every drop as he massaged his lover’s fat balls and drove his mouth ever more hungrily down the length of Roger’s dick.

Roger was torn between being happier than he’d ever been in his life and embarrassed by the fact he had come so quickly. But since Stanley didn’t seem to mind, Roger had the good sense to go along for the ride, enjoying every blessed second of the experience. He simply clutched Stanley’s head in both hands and poured his come down that eager throat, his ass in midair, barely touching the bed at all.

He could sense Stanley giving everything at the moment of Roger’s release. And taking everything too. Relishing Roger’s unstoppable lust. Clutching Roger’s ass with his free hand, sliding his fingertips over Roger’s sphincter as he urged more come from the cock he was so thoroughly enjoying. Stanley was holding nothing back. Everything he was doing was for Roger. And as each new spurt of come tore from him and Stanley swallowed it down like ice cream, Roger cried out his pleasure.

When he was finally spent, Roger collapsed back onto the bed and somehow dredged up the energy to laugh. “My God, baby, you drained me.”

He clutched Stanley under the armpits like a child and pulled him up in the bed. After finding Stanley’s mouth, he covered it eagerly with his own. Roger tasted his own come in the kiss, and he felt Stanley trembling like a leaf in his arms, too turned on for control.

Eager to reciprocate, Roger muttered, “My turn,” and rolled Stanley onto his back, then straddled him, pinning him in place. He slid his lips from Stanley’s mouth to blaze a trail across Stanley’s throat, then onto his golden, hairless chest. Roger took his time. Gently stroking Stanley’s dick with one hand, he relished the feel of Stanley quivering beneath him. He gently nipped at Stanley’s sturdy brown nipples until Stanley moaned, then slid his other hand farther down to cup Stanley’s balls and feel the heat and weight of them as they lay in his hand.

With each stroke of Stanley’s dick, beautiful and circumcised like Roger’s own, Stanley’s hips came off the bed. Just as Roger’s had done. And every new movement coaxed a groan of pleasure from Stanley’s throat. He was laughing now, too, as he clutched at Roger’s back, needing him closer, needing it all. Begging for more.

And when Roger slid his lips over Stanley’s smooth tummy, licked a path through his tight little belly button, and bumped his chin on the head of Stanley’s dick, they both gasped, thrilled at the touch, at the hunger they both felt. At the fun they were both having.

Roger inhaled Stanley’s cock like a kid with a Popsicle. The head was coated in precome, and as Roger sucked its sweetness away and drew the length of the shaft all the way down his throat, Stanley cried out. When the tip of Roger’s tongue delved into his slit, massaging him there as no one had ever done before, Stanley grabbed Roger’s ears and damn near tore them off in his excitement.

Roger laughed and said, “Ow!” Stanley didn’t even
pretend
to apologize. He drove his cock repeatedly into Roger’s mouth. The head of it bumped the back of Roger’s throat, and Roger seemed to enjoy it as much as Stanley did. Moaning again, his ass two feet off the bed, Stanley wrapped his legs around Roger and plowed his dick into that hot, satiny mouth. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to.

Finally, Stanley gave a massive grunt, and his dick erupted like Mt. St. Helens. His come shot out in a geyser that filled Roger’s mouth in a heartbeat. Roger pulled away for a second to suck in a little air, and as he did, another torrent of Stanley’s come splashed across his face.

Roger licked it away, thrilled by the smell and taste and
force
of that surging come, and as soon as he regained control of the situation, he drew Stanley’s lunging, bobbing cock into his hot, hungry mouth again and finished the job properly.

Stroking Stanley’s fuzzy legs and clutching happily at Stanley’s pumping ass, he sucked every drop of come from him. With Stanley’s balls bouncing off his chin and Stanley heaving upward off the bed, Roger smiled around Stanley’s cock and gave himself up to enjoying the ride.

And what a ride it was! When Stanley came, he gave it his all. And Roger was more than happy to be in the line of fire.

As Stanley collapsed back onto the bed, replete and exhausted, Roger continued to suck his cock, continued to play his hands along Stanley’s lean flanks, across Stanley’s smooth, warm ass, over Stanley’s heaving hairless chest.

He looked up to see what Stanley was thinking about the whole procedure. Stanley had an arm draped across his face as he lay there, winding down, catching his breath, panting like a steam engine, his hips still moving to the rhythm of Roger’s mouth. A moment later, Stanley’s other hand came down to caress Roger’s cheek as Roger kept working Stanley’s softening cock.

Roger ran his hands over Stanley’s stomach, then reached higher and caressed his chest. He stroked his fingertips through Stanley’s armpits, enjoying the softness of the hair there, and the heat.

Periodically, Stanley gave a shudder of ecstasy as he felt Roger’s lips continue to worship his cock, taking every ounce of enjoyment from the act that he could.

With his heart still hammering, Stanley finally swung his arm from his face and looked down the length of his body to see Roger, cock in mouth, green eyes dimmed in lust, looking back. Stanley reached down and stroked Roger’s short hair. Ran his fingertips around the cusp of Roger’s perfect ears. Closed his eyes yet again at the sensation of Roger’s tongue endlessly caressing his cock, his slit, his balls. Still wanting more. Always, always more.

When Stanley found his voice, it was so deep with spent desire he barely recognized it.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Stanley said.

Roger released Stanley’s cock and pressed his face into Stanley’s stomach. “I came too fast.”

At that, Stanley laughed. “Like I didn’t?”

Roger slid up until their faces were together. He wrapped his arms around Stanley and pressed his mouth to Stanley’s lips—assured, proprietary, as if everything he touched belonged to him.

Stanley closed his eyes and gave himself up to the kiss. As he stroked Roger’s back and their legs wound around each other, their flaccid cocks came together again. Like war buddies, remembering a battle well fought, their cocks pressed their heads together and comforted each other as best they could, eager already for the next battle to come.

Roger and Stanley let their heads fall to the pillow as their kiss came to an end. Inches apart, they continued to gaze into each other’s eyes. Their hands continued to roam across terrain they were just beginning to know, loving every furrow, every mound. Roger’s lush body hair. Stanley’s smooth heat. Every trembling mass of muscle and bone and flesh and manhood.

Twilight was over. The darkness in the room was almost complete now, but for a fat moon that cast an aura of silver light across the bed, across their naked, cooling bodies.

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” Roger whispered in the shadows.

And hearing the words, Stanley pressed his face to Roger’s throat, burrowing deeper into those heavenly, strong arms that felt so wonderful wrapped around him.

“I still can’t believe it,” Stanley muttered into Roger’s flesh. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and it’ll be just a dream.” He pulled back and looked up into Roger’s face. “If I do, I’d rather not wake up at all. Ever.”

Roger smiled and dragged Stanley close again, cupping the back of his head and pressing Stanley’s face into his throat once more, enjoying the feel of it there. And enjoying Stanley’s words too. Enjoying them more than anything.

“It’s not a dream, baby. I really am crazy about you. I—I can’t even explain it to myself. I swear, I fell in love with you the very first time I saw you. Love at first sight. It’s not just an absurd concept to me anymore. I believe in it now. I have to. I’ve experienced it. You’re the proof. You and what my heart is telling me right this minute. I love you, Stanley. No kidding. I love the crap out of you.”

“Lovely expression,” Stanley mumbled. He kissed Roger’s Adam’s apple, relishing the scrape of Roger’s beard across his face. There was something about the roughness of it that drove Stanley crazy. It was the most sensuous thing he could ever imagine having pressed to his skin. He never wanted the feeling to go away. He didn’t care if he ended up with a rug burn so bad his face was erased like a bad sentence from a sheet of paper.

“Me too,” Stanley said, eager to express the way he felt. Eager to speak the words. It was as if he simply couldn’t say them enough. “I love you too, Roger. The first time your head came over the edge of the stairwell. When Arthur was laying there like a beached whale in front of me and I was scared to death thinking he was dead. And there you were. One look into your green eyes and I was lost. Gaga city.”