This story will contain sexual acts between two adult males. I am not, nor do I know the celebrities involved. I do not know their sexual preferences. If you are not of legal age, please direct yourself to another site.
-------------------------------------------------- Channing's Visit - Chapter 3 -------------------------------------------------- Thanks to Clarence, Bobby, Art, Jason and Nick! --------------------------------------------------
For the next week or so, I found myself avoiding contact with Channing at all costs. The more and more I thought about it, the stranger I felt about our living room tryst. Yes, it had been the culmination of a lot of variables: his crumbling marriage, my physical seclusion, our aggressive male hormones. But, the nagging part was whether it was just a fling or the beginning of something else...
I had taken to sneaking out of the house and finding refuge in my studio aka the guesthouse. Thankfully, the fridge was fully stocked, so I could spend all day in there painting and not have to leave for any reason. That day, I was working on a newer piece.
At the moment, it was nothing but a sphere floating on the white of the canvas. I had no idea what it was, but it would come to me with time. As I stared at it, a thought came to me. I mixed a few colors together and, a short while later, the sphere was now a deep shade of hunter green. I liked it.
And, I still had no idea what it was.
A commotion from the house drew my attention. I peeked out the window to see Channing carrying a propane tank in his hands. He gingerly set the tank down next to my grill and lifted the lid. He then looked up at the cloudless sky, put on some shades and pulled his shirt over his head. I sighed. Yes, it was an unseasonably warm day, but it was barely sixty. He was obviously trying to lure me out.
And, damn him, it worked.
Channing was fiddling with the tank as I approached. "Holy shit, he's alive," he said enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes. "I've been working."
"Yeah, okay."
I shoved my paint covered hands in his face. "Yeah, okay, this!" Channing laughed and pushed me away, continuing with the grill. "What are you doing anyway?"
"I was gonna make us steak, but you were out of propane."
"I don't have any steak," I replied, confused.
"I know," Channing chuckled. "Which is why I went to the store."
I took a blonde moment to process all that information. When everything clicked, I stuttered through a few syllables. "Wh... bu... you took my car and went into town without me?!"
"Hey, you were the one not talking to me, remember?" he shot back, his tone decidedly less amused. "Besides, Owen told me to leave you alone while you were in the studio. Technically, I did nothing wrong."
"I wasn't NOT talking to you," I huffed. "I was... working."
Channing stood suddenly, his six foot one frame looming over my own five foot nine. His face was serious. "Can you... PLEASE just stop arguing and let me cook lunch for you? Please, Reagan?"
"Why?"
"To apologize! Jesus Christ!"
I was stunned by his reaction. While I had been brooding over our steamy encounter, I hadn't even thought about how Channing felt. Despite knowing him for just a couple of weeks, I could imagine that he took the blame for the entire event, even though I had made no move to stop him. I gingerly patted him on the chest.
"You don't have to apologize," I said quietly. "And, I like my steak medium."
Channing smiled, his hunter green eyes locked on to me, and tenderly ran a hand through my hair. "Cool. Although, I hope you're not starving. I still have to put the rub on and then let it sit for an hour or so."
I shrugged. "I think I'll be okay. I was gonna take a shower and get this paint off anyway. I'll meet you in the kitchen." He nodded and, for the tiniest moment, I thought he was going to kiss me, the look on his face reminiscent of our night together. Instead, he brushed his fingers over my arm, then headed inside.
My brain was swirling to keep up with all of this madness. With every passing encounter, I was becoming more and more attracted to Channing. And, it seemed as if he felt the same for me. But, so far, the one encounter we had seemed to be driving a wedge between us. Perhaps it was a one time thing. Perhaps I was just having a schoolboy crush. All of this and more passed through my skull as I showered, giving me a slight headache.
To hell with it all, I thought. From that point on, I made a conscious decision to let it play out. Channing was only here temporarily and, if he wanted to have fun, so be it. I would stop fighting myself at every turn and overanalyzing every look and touch. After throwing on a tank and a random pair of jeans, I made my way to the kitchen.
"Smells good in here," I commented as I rounded the corner. Channing was at the sink cleaning a few dishes. Still shirtless, of course. He grinned at me over his shoulder. Fuck, that smile was killing me. "Every southern boy knows how to cook," he quipped. "Hey, what do you want for veggies? I was gonna mash some potatoes and I just put the macaroni and cheese in the oven. I could sauté some spinach or I have broccoli or we could just make a tossed salad."
I sniggered before I could stop myself. "Sorry. I can't take that last option seriously."
"Really? How old are we?"
I made my way to the fridge. "I'm sorry, but no one says `tossed salad' unless they're talking about... you know."
Channing stood in front of me, leaning back on the island. "What if I don't know?"
I rolled my eyes and reached in to grab a water bottle. "You know full well what I'm talking about." I nearly jumped out of my skin as Channing's hands wrapped around my waist and undid the button fly of my jeans. His lips appeared at my ear. "I think I might have an idea. You have to tell me if I'm wrong though."
An objection started in the back of my throat, but I reminded myself of my decision to let this play out. And, despite the fact that this meal was only happening because he wanted to apologize, we were at it again.
As I shut the fridge, Channing slid my jeans down to my ankles, kneeling on the floor behind me. A grunt escaped my lips as he gently bit my ass, kneading my cheeks with his large hands. My dick was hard in an instant. I reached down to grab it, but Channing snatched my wrist and placed it firmly at the small of my back.
"Not just yet," he growled from his spot on the floor. Then, excruciatingly slowly, he slid his tongue across my exposed hole. I moaned loudly, the feeling of his short facial hair only adding to the sensations. My body was running on automatic as I arched my back and pushed my ass back onto Channing's tongue. He chuckled which sent a wonderful vibration through me.
"Oh, fuck, that feels good," I mumbled, forehead against the stainless steel fridge. I wanted so badly to jerk off, but I was holding on to the fridge with one hand and Channing still had the other pinned. I looked down just in time to see a drop of precum dangle, then hit the floor between my legs, the first of many.
Channing was still teasing me with his tongue, lightly probing my hole between gentle nibbles and kisses. I glanced over my shoulder and could only see his nose and closed eyes as he took me. As if he knew I was looking, his eyes opened halfway and he gave me the same look he had the other night: a lust-filled, animalistic stare. He knew he could do whatever he wanted to me. If possible, the thought made me even harder.
Channing stood and released my hand and, as quick as lightening, I turned and dropped to the floor. I glanced at him as I undid his shorts, feeling the hardness underneath. He gave me that killer smile and licked his lips. In response, I yanked his shorts down and took his cock all the way down my throat in one smooth dive. Channing cried out in pleasure, his hands gripping the counter behind him.
I sucked his dick with a vengeful enthusiasm. Where Channing had put me into a pleasured trance, I was going to do better. I was going to drive him crazy.
I alternated between teasing the tip of his dick with my tongue and deep throating his entire manhood. As I did the latter, I would tighten and relax my throat around him. Channing's grunts and moans turned into a constant stream of vulgarities. "Fuck... oh, shit... fuck!"
I suppose my `revenge suck' did its job because, before I knew it, Channing had pulled me off of him, planted me on my feet and pushed me against the fridge. He dropped down for a quick rimming, then stood and plowed right into me. I bit my bottom lip so hard I thought I had broken the skin. Knowing that I could take it, Channing showed me no mercy.
Unlike our previous fuck, he started full-steam, his long dick flying in and out of my spit-soaked hole. I made for another attempt to grab my own cock, but he stopped me again, this time taking both wrists and pinning them above my head. I was helpless as Channing fucked me, arms immobilized and legs still tangled up in my jeans. And, I was loving every second of it.
Channing leaned forward, pressing almost all of his body against mine. His toes grazed my heels, his thick legs brushed against my own, his balls slapped obscenely against my ass, his toned stomach heaved against my back, his lips brushed against my neck. I let my head fall back on his shoulder and my eyes roll back into my skull.
"If I let your hands go, you promise not to touch yourself?" Channing whispered into my ear. I chuckled breathily. "I'll try."
He abruptly stopped fucking me. "Promise?"
The lack of movement send my body into a panicked frenzy, like when you're listening to music and it suddenly goes silent. "Yes, yes, I promise! Now, fuck me!"
Channing released my hands, then pulled my hips back, leaning me over. As he resumed his pounding, I looked down at the floor. I wasn't surprised to see that the one drop of precum had turned into a puddle and my dick was an angry shade of red. Channing hadn't missed the fact that I had achieved a hands-free orgasm last time we fucked and, I assumed, he was curious to see if I could again. I was, too.
As Channing assaulted my hole, I could do nothing but whimper, moan and gasp in pleasure. His manipulations of my body were superb and I was completely in his power. I don't know how long he fucked me before I felt it: that familiar tingle in my groin. I stood up, bracing myself on the fridge with one hand and wrapped my arm around Channing's head, burying myself in his neck. "I'm gonna cum," I groaned. "Fuck me hard."
"What's the magic word?"
I grabbed a handful of hair as hard as I could. "NOW."
"Yes, sir!"
Channing picked up the pace, his thrusts rattling through my entire body. I let my head fall forward which he took as an invite. He latched his perfect lips onto my neck, grazing my skin with his teeth as he slammed his hips into mine. That was the push I needed. My body tightened for what felt like an eternity before a low growl rumbled from my throat and my dick fired. I was impressed. My load hit the fridge with an audible splash that I could hear even over my own panting. I gripped Channing's powerful thighs as each shot pulsed through my body. I trembled slightly as my orgasm subsided, my cum rolling slowly down the steel.
Channing wrapped himself around me, pumping quickly. It was mere seconds behind my own orgasm that his began. He groaned into my neck as he buried his dick inside of me and shot off his copious load. I felt his cock expanding and pulsing inside as he filled my hold with his cum. There was so much, in fact, that it began to slowly leak out of me. I could feel it begin to trail down my inner thigh.
Before either of us could say a word, the oven began beeping. Channing chuckled. "That's the macaroni."
I slowly pulled off of him and laughed as he stepped out of his shorts, donned some oven mitts and pulled out the dish, all with half a bone. "How long was that in there?" I asked. He smiled. "Forty-five minutes."
"Well, while that cools, I am going to go take another shower. And, don't forget to clean the cum off of the refrigerator."
"Why do I have to do that? It's your load!"
I kicked off my jeans and began out of the kitchen. "Because, Channing, as hot as it is, your cum is dripping out of my ass and I don't think that's appropriate for a meal-time setting."
He opened his mouth to say something, then nodded. "Yeah. You're right."
Thanks for reading guys. This is just an introduction. Things will pick up soon. Feel free to e-mail me and let me know what you think, what you would like to see or even if you just want to say thanks or anything! NiftyAndyDarko@gmail.com