Intimacy, Part I
by eboy – eboyandsuch.wordpress.com

"I'm straight, you know."

I needed him to understand. Needed him to understand that, despite the fact that he was lying almost on top of me, breathing hard, mouth close to mine, despite the fact that just minutes before I had pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss, despite the fact that my hands were busy exploring his smooth back, his sensuous hips, his muscled chest, despite the fact that right now, looking into his dark, hawk-like eyes, I needed him in a way I had never experienced before... I needed him to know that despite all of this, I wasn't looking for any sort of long term gay relationship. This wasn't love, or even teenage infatuation. Those I saved for the opposite gender. But I had come here, to his house, to celebrate the end of finals. Exhausted from late night studying and a day of hard concentration, I collapsed on his bed while he went to get some sodas for us. I had opened my eyes minutes later to see him above me, sitting on the side of the bed. His dark, Middle Eastern face hovered there above me, framed by his smooth, jet black hair. Dark eyes looked down at me from either side of his hard, jutting nose, and his soft lips, the only thing soft about his face, hung open slightly as he watched me. I felt it then, for the first time. The lust, the need. And, feeling it, I reached up and hooked my arms around him, one cradling his head, the other pressing into his smooth, flat back. I pulled him down, and he came willingly, bending softly downwards... And we kissed.

We kissed for a while, soft lips on soft lips, while our hard, needy hands roamed over each others bodies, grabbing, pulling, holding us tight together. I was the first to use my tongue, sending it out to run over his teeth, feel the top of his mouth, explore the deep confines that his soft lips normally hid. He followed suit, and the feeling of his tongue probing deep into my mouth sent shocks down my spine. But I knew that I had to tell him, had to make it clear, and so, unwillingly, I pulled back, and we lay there, breathing hard, noses touching, staring into each others' eyes, until I said what I needed to say.

His name is Hashim, and we met just three months ago when he moved up to my math class from a less advanced one. He had a fair amount of catching up to do, even as smart as he was, before he could take our Precalc final, and our teacher gave me the job of helping him. We've worked together all these months, stayed up late many nights in a row working studying for the exam, and, in the process, gotten to like each other a fair deal. Right now, he is staring down at me with those intense, dark eyes of his, one hand tucked behind my shoulder, the other sending shivers through me as it brushes lightly against my side where he's pushed my t-shirt up past my navel. I can feel his warm breath flowing over my face, and release my own to mingle with it. As I watch, the corners of his mouth turn upwards in a small smile.

"Me too."

So now it's been said. Now, it's been understood. Neither of us wants this to become a full relationship. But neither of us, at the moment, wants to wait any longer without feeling the softness of the others' lips. So we kiss.

My hands move down, down to the hem of his long-sleeve t-shirt. I close my eyes and moan softly as his tongue enters my mouth again, more frantic than before, and slowly I slide my hands under his shirt, along his smooth, dark skin. I  lightly trace his spine with my fingers, feeling him shiver under my caress... Another moment, and my fingers massage his strong shoulder blades, pulling him close towards me. I feel his hand, hovering at my waist, start its own trek up, and I start and moan again as his fingers lightly pinch my nipple. Our lips are moving quickly now, ferociously trying to devour each other, our tongues playing a fast-moving game of tag through the dark spaces between... And down below, I feel the stiffness in our groins press together, and I want more.

It takes but a moment to pull off his shirt, and a moment longer to shed mine. He raises himself up on his arms a little, and we watch each others' chests rise and fall with the quickness of our breathing. Then we're back together, tongues chasing each other yet again, warm flesh against warm flesh.

I leave his mouth for just a moment, moving my kisses down his cheek, down his neck. I can hear him gasp into my ear as my tongue and lips probe the spot right above his chest, and then it is my turn to gasp as his hand grasps my waist, thumb hooking under the waistband of my jeans. We switch, his warm mouth on my neck, my hands on his waist, on his small, hard ass, probing the limits of his own waistband. Our cocks are pulsing together now, and we know we won't be able to ignore them much longer. Soon, we simply stop resisting.

He rolls off me, hands busy with the button of his pants. I roll over and plant a kiss on his strong chest, my hands forcing his out of the way and continuing the job on my own. He lifts his hips off of the bed as I hook my thumbs under his underwear and pull the remainder of his clothes off in one quick tug, tossing them across the room in one more smooth motion. He repeats the process for me, and then suddenly we stop.

We lie there side by side, finally fully nude, and just look. Our cocks jut from between our legs, pointing towards each other, pulsing slowly. His is dark, uncircumcised, long... My first sight of another's penis, discounting those on the internet. He is similarly fascinated with mine, and reaches out slowly, as if in a trance, to rustle through the surrounding hair. I moan at his touch, and we look up, into each others eyes. I can see the need there, the utter abandon, and I know I must look the same way. I reach out and grab hold of his manhood, slowly caressing his balls, the base, the tip. He moans and lunges on top of me, and our cocks press together once more, this time without the confining clothes in between.

Our lips meet again, but they are no longer the focus of our attention. Now, down below, our hips begin to slowly gyrate. Our hand move down, grab hips and asses, pulling hard, insistently grinding our throbbing groins together. Each movement slides his cock against mine, sending waves of hot flame outwards. Soon, it is not enough for us to breathe through our noses, and our lips part, panting, moaning, voicing our passions in wordless noise. We establish a rhythm: Thrust, relax, thrust, relax, him, me, him, me... The fire builds, and I hear him whisper the words in my ear. I thrust again, and then he lets out a long, low groan as his semen coats my stomach, my cock... The new warmth is all it takes, and I join him, bucking wildly under his weight, my semen joining his. We relax, together, cocks pulsing slowly between us, combined seed pooling on our stomachs... We kiss again, and then, tired, we sleep.

**********

I wake perhaps an hour later, disturbed by the absence of his warm body above me. He's standing by the door to the room, just returning from the bathroom with wet towels. I rise, and join him in wiping away our cum from my stomach. He finishes, and drops the towel to the ground. I follow suit, and we stand there. His form stands hard and lithe in the half-light coming in through his shaded windows. His hair sticks wildly out from his head, black and striking, and his eyes look me over, hawk-like as ever, taking in my nude form. I let my eyes move down, and look at his cock, hanging down from the dark mound of hair, partially erect due to the ministrations of his towel and, I hope, due to the sight of me. Looking at him, I know that he's thinking the same thing I am, thinking about change and joy and intimacy. After a minute, I step in closer, and we kiss again. This time, however, it is different: It is not the passionate, devouring kiss of lust, but the gentle, intimate kiss of friends who have newly become lovers.

I feel our cocks rising to meet each other, feel my heart quicken at the closeness of his naked form. My hands gently explore the softness of his body, burying themselves in the dark hair of his pubes, tickling his balls. His hands follow suit, and I groan as we come to full erectness together. Suddenly, I know what I want.

"Do you have condoms?"

He nods, but his eyes cloud. "I'm not sure I want to be..."

I shush him with a kiss that stretches out for another minute. When we part again, I calm his fears. "Not you. Me. Get a rubber."

My hand gives him one last caress, from his cock upwards, feeling the smoothness of his stomach and chest. Then I walk to his bed, lie down, and pull my knees back up and out, exposing my virgin asshole. He stands there taking deep breaths for a moment, then walks to his dresser and pulls out a package. He tears it open as he walks closer, and when he reaches the bed, I take it from him and gently roll it down over his cock. It's my first time putting one on any penis, let alone another guy, but sex-ed teachers have shown me enough times that its easy, feels natural. I cradle his cock in my hand and caress it slowly, looking up into his eyes. He gives me a look of confusion, unsure whether I really want this or not, but I calm his fears by pulling him down on top of me, between my legs. One long, soft kiss, and he understands that I mean this. He pushes himself up, and guides his cock to my entrance.

I've played around with my ass before while masturbating, of course. I tried touching it one day while jerking off in the shower, and the intensity of the orgasm improved enough that I've done it often, ever since. I've even had a pen or two up there, as deep as I could get them. But none of those was a cock, and this was.

"Be gentle," I ask him, already knowing that he will be. He smiles, and pushes forward a little. I feel my asshole expanding, slowly, and arch my back as the pleasure courses up my spine. So much better than a pen, I think. So much thicker, so much warmer, so much softer. He pushes a little more, and there's a moment's pain as his head pops inside. All I can think about his how full I feel already, full of warm flesh, flesh other than my own. He leans down to kiss me, and I groan into his mouth as he starts another long push. It's so much, but I want it, want it all up inside me. I want to draw him all inside me, be one with him... I grab his ass with both hands and pull, and he lets out a long moan into my mouth as he slips fully inside me.

This is it. We are joined. We wait, just enjoying the warmth, the connection. Our lips part, and he murmurs into my ear how soft and tight it feels while I kiss down his neck. I tell him how full I feel, full of him, how I feel like we're one being, connected completely... Then, suddenly, he pushes up and looks into my eyes, and I know that just being one with him is not enough. The joining is wonderful, but now, I want him to fuck me, and I tell him so.

He doesn't need much telling. The lust is creeping back into his eyes, coupling with the intimacy that was already there. He pulls out, back out to his tip, and the friction along my sphincter is painful, but I grit my teeth and bear it. He waits there, waits until the emptiness in me is too much to bear, then, with a small grunt, shoves it all back it.

Pain and pleasure explode up my spine. Yes, it hurts, but the pain fades fast, leaving only a lustful need: I want him to do it again. Again, and again, and again... And so he does. Out, in, out in... As before, we establish a rhythm, but this time, it's not a rhythm of grinding and relaxing, but of him thrusting in, and him thrusting out. I lie there, consumed by the feeling, staring into his eyes while he fucks me. He fucks me! We're not just playing around any more. This isn't two friends just messing around, jerking off. This is two lovers, one fucking and the other being fucked, and I just lie there and enjoy it.

He leans in to kiss me, and suddenly my cock touches his stomach, sliding against it with every thrust he makes. The pleasure in my ass suddenly spreads to my cock, and I arch my back and let out a load groan. He reacts, and picks up the pace. Every thrust brings his thighs in to slap against my ass, forcing me upwards on the bed, and every release pulls me downwards, trying to keep him in me as much as possible. He pushes himself up again, and I see his face. It looks animal now, wild all over, consumed by the feel of my ass on his cock, but the tenderness is still there, underneath. I know that I must look the same way. His stomach no longer touches my cock, but it doesn't matter any more. The feelings in my ass spread throughout my body, and my skin feels like it's burning, exploding on me every time his cock thrusts deep inside. I can feel an orgasm building, but I don't have the ability to tell him, don't have the ability to do anything more than scream from the beautiful agony of my ass, my cock, my very being...

He knows, though. He knows what's about to happen. And so, with an animal groan, he taps some unknown reserve of energy and picks up the pace yet again, striving to reach it with me... Not quite fast enough: With one last scream, the flame under my skin pools in my balls, then goes flying up and out. I arch my back, jerking spastically as the cum shoots from my cock, coating both his and my stomachs yet again. As I cum, I feel the muscles in my ass clench down, and suddenly, with one last thrust, me buries himself inside me to the balls. His arms give out, and he collapses on top of me as his orgasm tears through him. I hold him until he's done, basking in the warm afterglow of my explosion, which seems to permeate my whole body. Then we rest there.

This time, I don't fall asleep, but he does. I hold him there against my chest, listening to his calm, even breathing, feeling his cock slowly grow soft inside me, never quite falling out. I lie there and hold him, Hashim, my lover, until the garage door opens, announcing that his parents have arrived home.

As we clean ourselves off and don our clothes, we trade small smiles, knowing that this intimacy will never go away. Finished cleaning up, we say hello to his parents, and then step outside into the cool evening summer air. As he walks me the few blocks to my home, we make a point to brush up against each other every so often, and kiss gently under the protection of some trees.

"Were you a virgin?" I nod, and he does as well, drawing me in for a short, soft kiss. We start walking again, holding hands, and now I ask him a question. "Ever done anything with a girl?" He nods. "Some petting. I ate her out once. Little stuff like that." "Same here," I answer. "Came pretty close to actual sex once, but..." He sighs before he answers. "Yeah, I know the feeling. We're just not quite there yet."

Yet? I stop walking and tug on his hand. "You have a girlfriend? Shit, I'm..." He cuts me off with a kiss. "Don't worry about it. I wanted to do it, and, frankly, my girlfriend will probably think it's all pretty hot, if I tell her about it."

"What's her name?" I knew he didn't have a girlfriend at school, but I had never asked about outside of school, and he's reserved enough not to volunteer the information. "Katy," he answers. "Katy O'Shaughnessy."

I smile. "I know Katy. Went to middle school with her. You're a lucky guy."

We part at my steps, risking one last quick kiss before he heads home. As I climb the steps, I'm thinking about Katy, the little red-haired girl who was my middle school crush, and about Hashim. About lovers, about intimacy, about lust... I smile, and step inside.