Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com
Something I heard a lot when I was younger is that every man should travel, at least once, alone. I ended up doing so and... wow.
Back in my college days, I decided to study abroad for a year. I had studied Spanish, and it made sense to stay with a Spanish-speaking country rather than start from scratch somewhere else. I looked into Spain, Argentina, Mexico... the big, obvious countries. But then I saw something different: Costa Rica. Now today, Costa Rica is a world-famous tourist mecca. But at the time, in the early 1990s, it was one of the most obscure parts of the world, on no one's radar. When hearing that I was thinking of studying there, more than one person "corrected" me by saying, "It's pronounced 'Puerto Rico.'"
Well, fuck that shit. I liked the idea of going to the "end of the earth," and figured if nothing else, I could impress my friends for having survived living in the rainforest. I signed up for the language program and shipped out.
It was great. My program was pretty small, about 20 of us, and I quickly pulled together a mixed gang of friends. Costa Rica was an unspoiled paradise. It felt like we were off the grid, and seeing the real world—and because there were so few visitors, we were essentially a novelty wherever we went.
My gang and I skipped town for weekends away when we could, going to distant places and at one point camping out literally in the rainforest. I was proud to have been the only one who correctly assembled my tent, and consequently, stayed dry for the weekend.
Toward the end, another one of guys talked about a quick trip he had taken to a place called Puerto Viejo in the far south east of the country, not far from the Panama border. I gather today the place is quite hopping, but back then it was literally at the end of the road. As remote as remote could be. I tried to get the gang together to go there, but after the soggy camping disaster, folks wanted a place with more infrastructure.
So, remembering the notion that every man should travel alone at least once, I decided to go there myself for a couple of days over the weekend.
And getting there... was an adventure. You had to go via bus—a retired school bus, to be exact. Along the way, the highway out there went from being a paved road, to a dirt road, to being an... aspirational road. I got there to find a lovingly ramshackle village that had only had electricity for a couple of years. But it was the most shockingly beautiful place I had ever been.
And pretty much, I had the place to myself.
I learned that it had a minor reputation as a surfer's paradise—home of the so-called salsa brava. But it was the wrong time of year, so there were next to no visitors. There was an open-air restaurant that served as a makeshift nightclub on Friday Saturday nights, but other than that there was not much to do. Restaurants were essentially people's houses; you walked in and they whipped up something for you in their kitchen while wrangling their kids.
I found a guy who had a few small rooms to rent. It cost me about $2.50 per night... and that's about what it was worth. There were six total rooms, divided by ¼-inch particle board partitions that didn't reach to the floor or the ceiling. There was one shared bathroom. Because there was no one there, I essentially had my pick of the rooms, and grabbed one that at least had a decent window.
Well, OK. Here I was. Traveling on my own.
The trip in was long, and I got in just before dusk. I grabbed Friday night dinner from Miss Cicely's house—her family immigrated from Jamaica and she served me the best tropical dinner (and yes, my only choice was to order "dinner") I've had in my life. Damn, I still dream about that. Afterwards, I wandered around and found a local pool hall that seemed lively. I joined in, grabbed a drink from a guy at the counter who offered beer, rum... and for the truly adventurous, local fire-water called guaro. I stuck with beer.
Slowly I got into things. Cool music. Cool vibe. The place was social and friendly, but totally laid back. I was the curiosity, so everyone had to play me, asking relentlessly what America was like... and what American women were like. Over drinks and I swapped stories and heard local gossip, and was told where to get the best weed—and the going rate for how much to bribe the police if I got caught.
It was... nothing, really. But it was fan-fucking-tastic.
Tired and somewhat buzzed, I stumbled back to my room, hoping to rest up to hit the beach bright and early. Even with the window, that tiny room had little air, and I settled in for a sweaty sleep on top of the sheets.
I must have drifted off for a while, but was abruptly awakened by voices. Damn. It seemed I was going to have company next door.
Somewhat to my irritation, I realized both my bed and the bed in the other room were pushed flush against the particle board partition.
Worse, I realized it was a guy and a girl, who were feeling frisky, on the other side of a particle board partition.
Worst of all, I realized they both spoke English, meaning I was going to hear everything, in exquisite detail, from a guy and a girl, who were feeling frisky, on the other side of a particle board partition.
Oh fuuuuuuck me. It was like I was in fucking bed with them.
From what I could tell, he was American and she was Australian. They had met up earlier that night, and wanted a fling. I could respect that. Hell, if I hadn't been so beat, I'd be doing the same thing. I quietly hoped they would be... efficient.
Of course they weren't. What happened over the next three FUCKING HOURS was a cat-and-mouse game of Romeo trying every trick in his arsenal to finally seal the deal with Juliet. And she kinda wanted it, and was willing to mess around, but kept freaking out at the last minute. And he'd try a different play, move the ball forward... and she'd freak out. Again. Again and again and FUCKING AGAIN. I felt like I knew way too much about what revved each of their engines. It took every bit of control to keep from yelling out, "Jesus fucking Christ... just DO it and roll over and go to sleep already!"
Finally, Romeo gave up, and I heard Juliet gather up her stuff and quietly slip away. FINALLY.
But in the meantime, all that drinking had caught up with me. There was no way I was going to move while everything was going down, but we had started to reach a danger point. I waited, hugely impatiently, to see if the guy was going to do anything.
Sure enough... guys are guys. A couple of minutes later I could hear the tell-tale sound of a guy starting to beat his meat. Perfect cover, I veeeeeery quietly slid off the bed and started tiptoeing down the hall to the shared bathroom.
And, perfectly in line with everything else in the evening, just when I got to the hall, I heard him get up. I turned around, and nearly collided with a very naked man. His dick still pretty gorged, if a bit deflated, and pointing right at me. Fucking shit.
Romeo had no concept that anyone was remotely around, and understandably freaked... jumping back and swinging his hands to shield his privates.
The light was pale, but I got a good look at him. And immediately thought that Juliet was the stupidest fucking idiot in the world. I mean, I'm 100% straight, but was stunned by him. He had an incredible body; an athletic build loaded with muscles, built up from steady use rather than posing in the gym. He had a hairy chest, and a distinct trail of hair that ran down from his bellybutton to a full man-bush. With fine, shoulder-length hair and a scrappy beard of like 3-week's growth. He had a strong, angular face, made more masculine with his scruffy beard.
Juliet could have done way worse.
Seeing him spooked like that, I raised my hands and said calmingly, "Dude, it's OK, sorry to scare you. Just got up to take a leak."
He calmed a bit, and nodded at me. "Uhhh... OK..." He was about to say something else, but then a panicked look shot across his face. Then slowly turned to see where I came from... and absolute mortification flashed over his face. "Oh fuck. Were you...? Did you...? Oh... fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Dude I am so sorry."
And now I was embarrassed, watching this guy standing in front of me naked, realizing I had heard everything as his planned-for romantic conquest went to shit. And then the... um, afterparty. "Dude, no... it's cool. It's totally cool." Shit, what do I even say? "It's my fault... I should have warned you. I'm so sorry."
Damn. As irritated as I had been while it was all going down, I couldn't help but feel for this guy at what had to be a low point of his entire life. I tried to think of something, anything to break the unbearable cringe of it all. And I started babbling. "Dude, you were doing everything right. Fuck her. She was crazy. I mean, look at you! I have no idea what her problem was... I'd fucking do you in a second."
OH HOLY FUCK WHAT DID I JUST SAY? How is it possible I could make an already-unbearably embarrassing moment a thousand times worse??!?
"Shit," I said, desperate to backpedal. "That's... totally not what I mean. I just... you... shit."
Well, I guess it broke the ice. Romeo looked at me blankly for a beat, and then started laughing. Hard. Despite my humiliated stance, I soon joined him and we were barely able to stand.
"Oh God, stop, stop! I have to pee so bad I'm about to explode!" I desperately ran into the bathroom and pissed so hard I about drilled a hole in the porcelain. He used the break to wrap a towel across his waist. I came out and said, "OK. We almost had a situation. Better now. But why don't we go our separate ways."
He gave a quiet nod, and I slid back into my room.
Morning was only slightly less awkward. I saw him again as I was coming out of the shower; he was clearly ready to use the bathroom himself. It was an awkward side-by-side as we slid past each other. As I got my stuff together, I of course couldn't help but reflect on everything that happened, and decided to just be straightforward. I mean, it was a small town and a much smaller lodge... best to just deal with this directly and be done with it.
I gave him a decent amount of time to get himself together after his shower, then popped my head around the corner and knocked lightly. "Hey man, you have a second? I just wanted to clear the air." He was standing there shirtless. Damn. He looked good. He looked up at me and nodded. I went on: "Look, I'm... sorry how things went down last night. I totally wasn't trying to spy on you, or to creep out on you... I should've done something, said something so you knew I was there. I know... we'll be seeing each other, and I just didn't want things to be any more awkward. I'm... sorry, man."
He sighed heavily, looked up at me for a second, then down. He had somewhat of a defeated air to him. "Nah, man... it's fine. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just... shit. Just the perfect ending to a shity day. It didn't help that... Shiiiiiiit. Talk about mixed signals! She was all over me, all night. And seemed like she was totally into it, but just never... I mean, we can all change our mind, and I sure as Hell wouldn't force myself on anyone, but... damn."
"Sorry man. It just sucks. And I can't see what her problem was." I made damn sure not to comment again on how hot his body was.
"Yeah, it's been a long run of striking out. I don't get it. I don't think I'm, you know... ugly. And I'm not some jackass. But I am a guy with needs. And the last month I've been here, I haven't once gotten to first base. Damn, I mean... what's with this country? And it's not just first base, I haven't even gotten up to the plate yet."
I nodded, companionly. "I get it. I'm here on a program. None of the guys—none of them—have gotten close enough to even smell a girl, even though the whole fucking country is teaming with hotties. But every single woman ended up with some local guy within five minutes!"
He laughed. "Yeah... I admit, I'm not really a player. But I thought I had some kind of game. Damn!"
We both laughed. I leaned in and extended my hand. "I'm Noah, by the way."
"Jesse. Good to meet you." He had a nice strong handshake. "How long are you in the country for?"
"Here for a year, mostly studying Spanish, and picking up other stuff along the way. You?"
Jesse nodded. "I'm... just kinda playing it by ear. I decided to take a year or so off, wanted to see the world. I've had some things lined up, but now am just killing time. This place looked good on a map, so I made my way here. Not sure where to next, this is kinda the end of the road."
At this point, my stomach started making sounds, and we both laughed. I considered for a minute, and then made a decision. I'm usually more of an introvert, but I was enjoying this guy's vibe. "Well, Jesse, that's my body's way to telling me it's time for breakfast. Got plans? Wanna tag along?"
He did, and we ended up having a blast. He was... I dunno. We just had this connection. I was half-afraid he was going to be some sort of douchebag, a washed-out frat boy who hadn't grown up. But he wasn't anything like that. He was bold without being... cocky. He was interested in beer and women, of course, but interested in... like, everything. Intensely social, and great with everyone we met. It took only a few minutes and you felt like you were his best friend.
From breakfast, we grabbed some gear and made our way to the beaches at the edge of town. They were stunning, in ways I can't even describe. It was just the two of us, and we set ourselves up for the day. While the waves were nowhere near being surf-ready, they were more than enough for a couple of greenhorns just splashing around in the surf. I got rolled again and again, one time nearly being thrown back onto the sand. Jesse didn't fare much better. We both had to drop our trunks to shake out the sand.
In the daylight, my initial impression of him was definitely confirmed; my buddy had an amazing body. Tall and strong. Not overly defined, just real. Revealing real strength. Covered lightly with hair that was splashed across his pecs and ran down to his crotch. He oozed casual, confident masculinity. In some ways, he'd be like the perfect surfer dude, but he was... rougher. More rugged in his look.
I was a good match for him. In comparison, I was slightly shorter, with what I'd call a swimmer's build. Still athletic, but just a tighter build than Jesse's. I had a bit more hair. My last girlfriend had insisted on me shaving my balls, but here in Costa Rica I figured fuck that shit. I'm much more of a guy-next-door kind of guy—the perfect example of a corn-fed guy from the Midwest.
When we weren't getting pummeled by the waves, or drinking the beer we had picked up in town, we fell into an easy conversation. It was... great. I'm not usually a big talker, but Jesse just had a way about him, you know? I think it helped that he was essentially a complete stranger, completely untied to any of the drama in my life. I could... talk to him. It felt safe. It helped that he was a great guy. He didn't talk shit about anyone or anything, just had this exuberance about him. And he was surprisingly thoughtful. He had ideas about things... things I'd never thought about. Encouraging, and able to see how things would play out.
From his stories, his mannerisms, I could tell that he was intensely physical—the kind of guy who would climb over a mountain just because it was there. Or, tussle with his buds... or stop everything to throw around a ball. We shared a love of baseball, and he laughed hysterically when I told him my attempts to try to explain the game to the Costa Rican family I was living with. And, he was much more into physical touch. This was weird for me. Again, from growing up in the Midwest, guys didn't touch each other for anything, ever. But Jesse punctuated his stories with playful punches to my arm, pats on my back, and more.
That stuck with me. His confidence. His familiarity. His casual, completely unforced, expansive masculinity. So different from my stoic upbringing.
The hours drifted by, and we never for a second got tired of each other's company. I don't know when I've had such a good time before. With basic anonymity, I felt free to be myself. Not worry about the long-term, but just savor the moment. And... it really built up my confidence hanging out with Jesse. It was like he was seeing me as the best version of myself, like he thought I was somehow this incredible guy. He laughed at my jokes. Listened to my stories. Instinctively took my side as I talked about things. But... he pushed me, too. Got me to think about things I hadn't thought of before. Urging me not settle, but to stay true to myself. We covered everything, relationships, parents, life plans, most embarrassing moments...
...sex...
It was helped by the awkward way we met, but we had an endless, rolling conversation about sex, what it meant, what we were looking for. None of the puffed-up, one-upmanship with my buddies, but real talk.
It was the best day of my life.
I think the moment that captured everything about that day was when it got near dusk, and we were looking at the sun over the water, laughing about some stupid story I told. Not sunset, just that golden time of day, with wind and waves and me drinking the last of our beers. He had his left arm draped around my shoulders, his right patting my chest as he howled in laughter. I looked at him. His eyes. Brown, but golden in the light. His eyes laughing as much as he was. Golden. A million miles deep. Filling me up with his golden light...
Damn. That was probably weird... but at the moment, I felt like a million bucks. Like I was... like, glowing.
It was strange, that glow didn't really go away. We headed back to our rat-cage of a hotel, to clean up and hit the town nightclub. We had been excitedly talking about the evening's possibilities all day, and had worked things out as best we could to give each other privacy on the assumption we were both going to get lucky. Young guys in our prime, confident in total victory, and ready for a night of good food and cold beer, and a helluva lot more.
We popped out of our respective rooms at the same time, me in a fairly tight T-shirt that showed off my upper body to its best form. Jesse was wearing a tropical shirt, unbuttoned and hanging loosely around him, showing his perfectly sculpted chest with its brush of curly hair.
Fuck, we were hot!
Unfortunately, the action at the nightclub ... was not.
Again, there was hardly anyone in town, and any fool could have told us in advance that the "nightclub" would be a bust. There were a handful of other visitors—all guys. I think they were mostly German; the language barrier kept us from making much of a connection. The women who were there were primarily locals who were very obviously with their boyfriends, and pretty much engaged in levels of PDA that you could only find in a Latin beach bar at the end of the road.
Anyway, the music was blasting at the threshold of pain. It was a good Latin mix, but I hardly had the dance moves to do it justice. And I don't think anyone would win watching a clueless gringo gyrating in the middle of an empty dance floor.
Instead, Jesse and I sat at the bar, savoring seafood that had been caught that very afternoon. Jesus, that was good. We started with beer, but were quickly convinced to try the house specialty, some sort of rum punch that had a wicked kick.
After a while, Jesse and I went back outside, commandeering a bench on the beach, looking out as the moon rose and set the sea to sparkle. The wind was warm with a wet, heavy smell—likely we would be getting rain sometime tonight. The music floated around us, now at a reasonable volume.
In any other time, this would have been romantic scene right out of a movie. But instead of some hottie, I had Jesse.
I couldn't really complain, though. He was... his incredible self. A prince of a guy. All guy. A guy who would always have your back. A guy who made you feel special.
He made me feel special.
He made me feel...
Shit.
Shit. He was making me feel... I... don't know.
I mean, there was just such a connection. Even in this light, I could make out the color of his eyes. That golden glow about them that just kinda... I dunno. He was holding my shoulder. Yeah. Jesse would never play around with you, never let you down. He was...
He was.
At some point, I was going on about something, staring ahead into the moonlight-shattered waves, and made myself laugh. I looked over at Jesse, and he was... just looking at me. With his eyes. He quickly looked away and laughed without missing a beat. But as we continued to sit there, nursing our drinks, I could feel his gaze on me, again. I turned and flashed him a smile. He kept looking at me... looking... then smiled himself. An open smile, and again turned to the water.
It must have been the booze. Normally, I'm a lot sharper. Clearer. But for some reason I was... confused. I mean, if I had been working on a girl, I'd know what to do. But Jesse was... well, obviously, a guy. Both of us were guys. What... was going on? What did it mean when a guy was... Well, shit. He's as straight as they come, and so am I. We've been talking about getting some pussy all day. It had to mean something else. It didn't mean anything.
But... I don't know that my body had gotten the message. There was a change in how we were interacting with each other. I realized the way I was sitting, the way I talked to him. The way my leg was bouncing. I was... aware of him. Responding to him. I was feeling a... lightheadedness, and not all of it was from the booze. There was just such a connection between us. It felt... like there was...
There was...
I was snapped out of my thoughts as Jesse said abruptly, "Hold up, gotta bleed the lizard." He lurched up, and stood there for a second, making sure his legs didn't wobble. He... took a few steps towards an obliging bush, fished around his pants. A second later I heard the tell-tale signs of a guy relieving himself. Something about that hit me. The essential maleness of it all, marking his territory, not giving a fuck. I remember seeing his dick last night when he almost ran into me. Big and fat, having just blown his wad after his date left him hanging. Big and fat. Wasted on that bitch. Big and...
Shit, Noah. Get a grip. That's your buddy. Cut that shit out.
I got up, too. Not sure about the strange feeling going through me. My stomach felt... strange. I was hoping it wasn't something I ate. It didn't feel like that, but what else could it be?
Jesse walked back to me, his open shirt rippling in the sea breeze as he walked. That chest. That fucking chest... Just then, he stumbled, still a bit uncertain on his feet. He fell into me, nearly knocking us both down. I realized I was a bit unsteady myself, and just held him there until I was sure it was safe.
He stood back up to his full height, steadying himself with a hand on my shoulder. His eyes. Looking at me. His touch. Fuck.
And it hit me that I knew what the feeling in my gut was: butterflies.
Shit. There was a moment of mental panic. I looked down, and took an unsteady step back. Jesse gave a loose laugh, and looked away. I needed to escape. After a beat, I murmured, "Hey man, I think we're both feeling the rum. There's nothing going on here, and I think I'm pretty much done for the night. I'll have to catch my bus back to San José in the morning... I think I'm calling it."
Jesse nodded gravely. He cast his eyes around and said, "Yeah, you and me both, brother. I give up. I can't believe my luck. Two nights in a row. What does a man have to do to get pussy around here? Damn."
I smirked. "Well, that's why God gave us masturbation. Just keep it down this time." He laughed darkly.
We made our move to go back. I could definitely feel the effects of the punch, and I was glad to have Jesse's support, leaning into him as we gingerly walked back that dusty road. It was weird. I had gotten drunk before, obviously, but I don't remember the last time I had a guy walk me home like this. In his arms. Feeling his heat. As a reasonably tall guy, I wasn't used to having someone my size be... with me like that. His weight. The feel of him. His muscles. That... solidity. And the feel of his arm around me. Protecting. Supporting.
It was about halfway home when things started to get... strange. Surreal. As he walked, holding me, Jesse said something. Softly, but unmistakably. Almost wonderingly. "You smell good."
Shit. That was... so... personal. So... intimate. I felt... shit. No one had ever said anything like that to me, even from the days I used to douse myself in Polo or Drakkar to attract the ladies. There was an... honesty. An intimacy. I had been aware of him, his scent too... but would never have said anything. Never really thought anything. Dangerous. Taboo. But his words swirled in my head, not letting me go. Scent. His smell. I was curious. Without thinking, without thought, I turned my face into him, to breathe him in.
And that about undid me. Fuuuuuuuck.
It was crazy. The way he was holding me, I turned into his open shirt, essentially burying my face... into his hairy armpit. And breathed him. My whole life I was taught to reflexively think that was nasty. But... it wasn't. God help me... it wasn't.
It was overwhelmingly... male. Fuuuuuuuck.
Dark and musty. Sharp. Like... burnt spices. And male sweat. FUUUUUUUCK.
Instinctively, I reached my hand in, and realized I had slid into his open shirt and grabbed the bare skin of his chest. Feeling him. The tautness. The feel of...
Shit.
I wrenched myself free, and desperately tried to play it off as a drunken stumble. He laughed lightly at me, got me upright and continued forward. Shit. Shitshitshit. I walked.
But in my mind, I couldn't escape the memory of his scent. Raw. Male. Scent.
To my horror, I could feel the blood rushing to my dick. What the fucking hell was that? Holy fuck, what was happening?
"Almost there," Jesse said lightly. Fuck.
My mind was a fucking tornado of flying thoughts. I was completely unbalanced, and it had nothing to do with the rum punch. An icy trickle of sweat was making its way down my back. My heart pounding like I had just run a marathon.
We got in and stumbled our way to where our rooms were. It was warm, and the air was nearly dripping with the humidity... and we were both flushed. Beads of sweat. We stopped and looked at each other. Jesse was giving off a low laugh, I had no idea what about. All I could see was... him. The fucking vision of a man at the height of powers. And... with those eyes. Cutting through me. I couldn't look away. He chuckled again. I realized I was still holding on to him, no longer from support. Close together, in those tight confines, his scent was stronger.
Damn. My heart was racing—he had to be able to hear it. His eyes. His scent. His hands. We were... we just...
It was like an out of body experience. I watched as my hand reached up. Cupped his scruffy jaw. The feel of his beard. I'd never touched anyone else's. Wiry. A distinctive scratch. Scratching my fingers.
He leaned in, slightly. Held there, biting his lip. Then moved in. All the way. His lips finding mine. Nervously, but leaning in hard. Sliding. Jesus. The softness of his lips, the scratch of his beard. His...
My breathing was in short gasps as I opened my mouth and met him. Feeling him. The pressure from his lips. The feel. Fuck. I was falling. Fuck. The scour of his beard. The rum on his breath. My stomach. Fuck. It was the feeling of...
I pulled back. Gasping. "Jesse. I... I can't. I'm... I'm not gay. I can't..."
He stayed there, resting his forehead against mine. He was well aware I hadn't moved an inch. Hadn't moved my hands. His own hand reached around the back of my head. His fingers pushing through my hair. Fingers in my scalp. I wanted. So much.
"Jesse. I can't. I've never done anything like this before"
"Neither have I."
Fuck. My lips met his again. Tasting him. Fuck. Why did he taste so fucking good? Back. I had to back away. I had to...
His mouth opened and his tongue slid around mine. It fucking ended me. The butterflies in my stomach, released. I was fucking trembling. This was all wrong, but my dick was so hard I thought it was going to split my skin. I pressed against him. Close. Closer than I'd ever been to a guy. And holy shit... if anything, he was even harder.
My body was way ahead of my brain. My hands slid around him. With his shirt open, I had full access to him. His skin. Covered in a slight sheen of sweat. Hot under my fingers. It was... jarring. How many times had I been in a situation like this with a woman? But Jesse was... taut. Muscles hard. There was the drag of hair in the small of his back. My size. My equal.
While my hands were working him over, I slid off his mouth, and started working my way down his neck. Attacking that spot right behind his ears with my tongue. His whole demeanor changed. A sharp gasp of breath... and his ongoing growls transformed into... a purr. He pulled himself closer to me. His hands energized. Lashing across me. Fuck.
It was amazing. I could taste the salt of his sweat. But more, his scent was more potent here. Richer. I don't know how to describe it... I knew the smell of guys, but this was next level. All guy, but profoundly personal. I breathed him in, again and again, his smell knocking me on my ass. It was... like... almost reminding me of my favorite baseball glove: very old leather, oil, dirt, and sweat. The smell of man. The smell of Jesse.
While I was exploring his body, Jesse had bigger plans. With a gasp, I felt him reach down and heavily start kneading my crotch, finding my rock-hard cock and jacking me through my shorts. My mind went of the defensive... no, there was no way... Shit, we were just fooling around before, but this... this... was crossing a line. I don't care how good it feels. I... couldn't. Shit. We... can't! If we crossed that line...
Fuck. FUCK! His eagerness undid me. He wanted this more than any girl I'd been with. He wanted... I wanted...
Fuck it. Line crossed. I immediately started undoing the button, wrenching down my zipper. Jesse did the same, in a frantic race to free ourselves. I won, pulling out my dick. I'm good-sized, but thick as hell. Jesse dug in and wrapped his hands around me. Feeling me. I was leaking cocksnot everywhere, wetting his hands as he went. He started rolling my hairy balls. Fuck. Women never know what to do with a guy's balls. But Jesse knew.
I was right there with him, wrenching off his shorts and underwear. Feeling my first cock. It was odd. I'm so used to the girth of mine; he was thinner but long. It was both harder than I expected, but also... softer. I could feel the wiry tangle of his man bush. Fuck yeah. All man. Real man. Fucking hot. I was never going to shave my balls again, for anyone.
Jesse started jacking us together, sending shivers the length of my spine. Rough hands. The fucking right amount of pressure. No handjob by a woman came close.
All the while, our mouths mashed against each other. Sharing spit. Dueling with our tongues. Both of us making dark growling sounds. Hot. Feeling on fire. Hotter than hell. I pulled back and whipped off my T-shirt, showing my hairy chest, now covered in sweat. My shorts fell to the ground. Standing there naked, with my dick throbbing. Jesse stepped back and followed suit, shedding his clothes. I got to see his dick, really see it. Fucking hard as steel. A flared mushroom head. Hairy. Fucking hairy.
I don't know what went over me, but I dropped to my knees and fucking went after him. Swallowing him down. I had no practical experience of what to do, but a man knows. I'd had a few pretty good blowjobs, a shit-ton of mediocre ones... and I was going to give Jesse The. Best. Fucking. Blowjob. he would ever get. A blowjob worthy of him. Worthy of that amazing dick.
I sucked him. Hard. Swallowing his cockhead down. Puckering my lips and face fucking him, bouncing up and down, catching the flared rim of his mushroom head with every motion. Jesse let out a hissed, "Oh fuck YEAH, dude!" and wrapped his hands around me. Gripping my shoulder, running his fingers through my hair. Wanting to feel me, savoring the touch.
I went down on him, deep strokes, running my tongue all the way down. Too deep; I gagged myself. I pulled back and tried again, same result. Damn. I pulled off him, and giving myself a chance to recover, went lower and dragged my face through his bush. Fuck. And I mean HOLY FUCK. His musk, his fucking musk... the raw scent of hunger, of need, of man. I couldn't get enough, nearly hyperventilating as I breathed him in, But I needed more. My mouth unleashed on him, sucking in each of his balls, rolling them, tonguing them. Getting them slick with sweat. Then, going back after his dick, and started face fucking him all over again.
At this point Jesse decided he needed in on the action. He locked onto me, and in a flash of strength that caught me off-guard, he threw me onto the bed. No preliminaries. He just went after my cock with animal ferocity.
HOLY FUCK. I bellowed like a gored bull. Every blowjob I'd ever had was completely blown away. No woman has ever, could ever, give a blowjob like a guy could. Like Jesse could. He was... forceful. Actually sucked! Pressure and wetness! He kept working my cockhead, swirling his tongue along the rim. Ticking my piss slit as he went down on me. His spit started running down my shaft, and he reached up and started jacking me in time to swallowing me. My hands swept across his sweaty body. Alive with the touch of him. The feel of him. God, this was the best night of my fucking life!
But I needed more. I pulled myself around, then slid under Jesse, giving me access to his dick. Him straddling my face. I was hungry for it. Desperate for it. But the angle was slightly off, and all I could really reach was his cockhead. I worked it over as best I could, loving the taste of him, but decided from that position it was easier to go after his hairy balls. Fuck yeah. I worked them over, excited to hear his visceral grunts as I tongued him, suckled them. Loving the texture of his hair. And most of all loving the smell of him. Musk, raw and dirty. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head as I drove my face into his crotch... again and again... harder, harder...
And I was aware of a new scent. Something... darker. Something far more primal. My eyes focused, and I realized I had worked myself down so far that my nose was nearly to his ass. I pushed further, and realized I was staring at his hairy hole. Fuck. So fucking close. I leaned in closer...
And FUUUUUUUUCK. The scent swept through me. Earthy, dark... sour. Raw. Fucking RAW. FUCKING MASCULINE. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shitohshitohshitohshitOH SHIT! The deepest, most personal part of a man. Forbidden. And I was there. I could fucking... it was like I could fucking... Oh fuck. What was I doing? God help me. I leaned in. My face right in there. Fucking breathing his funk. OH FUCK!!! I could... no it was wrong. It was fucking wrong!
Fuck it. I slammed my face into his ass and fucking mouth-raped his hole.
Jesse lost is fucking mind. I'm sure he was taken aback as much as I was. But it was the fucking most incredible experience of my lift. And his insane reaction sent me through the roof. I fucking went after him, using everything I knew from how to eat a woman's snatch. Locking my lips around his pucker and sucking as hard as I could. Jesse roared; only the fact that my dick was all the way down his throat kept his scream from breaking down the walls. I lost my mind. Wildly eating his ass, sweeping licks up and down his crack, violently swinging my face side to side. Jesse's whole body shook. Convulsed. He swung a hand to his buttcheek and tried to split himself open even more, and was slamming his butt into my face. Desperate. But not as desperate as I was.
I have no idea how long I ate him out. I could've gone all day. My jaw was feeling sore, but fuck that shit. I was overcome by raw desperate need.
But clearly, Jesse's need was greater.
I was stunned as Jesse wrenched himself away, with a look in his eye like a werewolf rounding on its prey. He pulled me so I was sitting up, and landed a hard kiss. Fuuuuuuck... I could smell my musk in his beard. He broke away and spat into his hand. I looked at him, curious... wondering if he was spitting out hair from my bush? But with steely-eyed determination, he moved himself so he was squatting over my lap...
Oh holy shit. Was he gonna...?
Fuck! Holy fuck! He grabbed my dick, swirled it around his spit-slick hole, and fucking impaled himself.
UNghAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
We screamed into each other's faces. Holy shit... holy shit, holy shit, HOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHIT! The heat! The fire! The fucking PRESSURE! It was tighter than any pussy I'd ever fucked. Tighter than any pussy could ever be! My whole body instinctively convulsed, and desperately lifted up, needing—fucking NEEDING—to be inside him!
Jesse, however, was clearly in pain. He was gasping through clenched teeth, his eyes pinched closed. I thought he was gonna bail. But to my astonishment, and my body's infinite excitement, he kept going. Small movements, low rotations. Stretches. Getting himself used to the invader. Slow movements. Rocking. Slight deeper. Slightly. Up and down. Slightly...
I brought my hands up, running along his flanks, my fingers reaching around his back. Sliding. Pressure. God, he felt fucking GOOD. I pulled my right hand forward, a deep rub gliding up his breastbone, then kneading his muscular pec. God. The touch. So unlike a woman's tits... hard. Muscular. Powerful. The way a man was. The way only a man could be. The touch... the fucking touch. Running down further. Spat into my own hand and started fisting him. Kneading his cock. Deeply. Touch.
Jesse had gotten used to me, and was sliding up and down. Up and down. Filling himself. He suddenly gasped and threw back his head... and fucking worked that spot. Again and again. Up and down, but... twisting. Torquing. Slow. Deep. His ass bit down hard on my cock. Fuckkkk! FUUUUCK!
He slammed forward again, out lips locked and battling for leverage. His arm wrapped around me, digging into me. God... his hand, his fucking hands! Fucking unreal! Rougher than a woman's, and stronger. Then, he slowly pressed upwards, following my spine. Digging deeply. Upwards. The hair on my arms was standing straight up. Upwards. Fingers first. Until he was cradling the base of my skull in his powerful fingers. Massaging me. Kissing me. Fucking me.
I... I let loose. My hands everywhere. My mouth... everywhere. Fuck. I never knew sex with a guy could be so... Fucking sensual. Damn. Even "sensual" seems to be the wrong word, bringing up images of some cheap romance novel. Why does the vocabulary of sex seem to be words written by women for women? This was something so, so much deeper. Primal. Hitting all the senses at once.
I swept down with my mouth, tonging his neck, pushing him slightly to lick the sweat from his pecs and scour him with my stubbled jaw. His barking growls. The salt of sweat. The taste of his skin. His scent. Oh GOD his scent. Familiar, but reminding me of something from earlier. I swung my head over and buried it into his hairy pit. Breathing him in. Breathing that sharp scent of masculinity. And all the while, the fucking feel of my cock as he relentlessly twisted and torqued up and down. Digging into me. Driving me deeper. Grinding. Crushing. Pressure.
Holy shit... fucking a man was opening a whole new world of experiences for me. He fucking wanted this. Women usually just say back and take it, but Jesse was all in. Pushing hard. Pushing me to go harder. Strength on strength. Strength calling to strength. We drove each other on, harder and harder. Whole body fucking... our hands, our skin, our mouths, our hair, everything all together. Raw aggression, but slowed to make sure we both could wrench every single sensation out of this.
Jesse swung his face to mine, hugging me tightly against him as he relentlessly twist-drove himself up and down. Coiled violence. His face locked against my neck. The wetness of his tongue playing against the roughness of his beard. Fucking. Relentlessly fucking. The feel of his hard dick grinding against my hairy, sweaty abs... lubed up by sweat and a gush of precum. Fucking. Turning his hips. Wet suction. Deep. Fucking. Raw...
He pulled back sharply and started bucking sharply. Driving himself. Hard. My dick was on fire. Pressure. FUCKING PRESSURE. Oh God, the physicality... playing harder and more violently than we could ever play with a girl. It was too much. I wanted to go on forever, for fucking EVER. I prided myself on my stamina. But that pressure. That pressure was too much. I could feel my balls boil over, starting at the core of my body. Racing. Racing Volcanic. Fire. FIRE. OHGODOHGODOHGOD...
And I shot the biggest load of my entire life, straight up into my new buddy's ass. Holy Hell did I scream.
Jesse stunned me. I kinda thought that... well, you know, that that might be it. But Jesse was just getting started. He pulled out, knelt his head down... and fucking inhaled my cummy, assy cock.
Holy...! He didn't give a flying fuck. Just screaming, primal need. I writhed on the bed, my arms twisting in the sheets. I don't even know what kind of animal sounds I made. What the fuck, what the FUCK was he doing?!? Going after my spent dick, then my balls, then my dick again... The sensations ripped apart my brain, sensations I felt that...
And then in a flash, Jesse pushed back my legs, forcing my knees toward my chest. Before I could react, he drove his face into my exposed ass.
And I howled like an entire pack of wolves.
Holy SHIT! HE WAS EATING MY ASS! Oh Sweet Jesus... is THAT what it felt like when I went after him?!? OhGodhoGodohGod. His mouth... his fucking TONGUE was INSIDE MY HAIRY HOLE! I never, ever did anything with my ass before... no girlfriend of mine would ever touch it. But Jesse made me a fucking believer. Everywhere! And his fucking beard was shredding my skin. Wildly sweeping up and down my crack. Making out with my hairy pucker. Fuck, he was everywhere. Going at me hard. Lapping me like a rabid dog. With animal violence. I swung my hand down, instinctively trying to fist my dick. He batted it away with a snarl.
I wanted him to eat me forever, but he was far too gone, he needed to fucking rut. He spat again into his hand, and I knew what was coming. I felt a tang of icy panic... not sure if I could. Not sure if I wanted to...
Before I could protest, he ripped me open with his dick. I yelled, as loud as he had. Jesse growled out to me, "Push back. It helps. And it only stings for a minute." There was a bit of comforting in his voice, but a snarling sense of command. Oh... he was most definitely going to give it to me, and I was going to take it.
He kept pushing through my pain. I tried to force myself to breathe. Breathe. Breaaaaatheee. Jesse rolled his hips along like an obscene dance. Forward and back, side to side. It helped. I could feel myself adjusting. The icy pain starting to go down...
...but somewhere, I don't know where, something new was happening. It was like... my body... was starting to... glow. Like there was light... inside me. Warm, golden. Light. It was like. There was. Oh fuck. Light. Light inside me. It was. Fuck. I can't believe. Light that was starting to. Oh FUCK. What was that... It was... LIGHT.
I let out a wondering moan. Deep, as deep as the light inside me. Jesse gave me a crooked smile. "You feel that? That's just the beginning."
"Oh... God. Jesse. What... are you... doing? Oh God. It feels. It feels. So. So fucking GOOD!"
He leaned in, kissing me savagely as he started driving into me. God. OH GOD. I could feel him. Feel his cockhead. Feel his dick push through. Oh GAWWWWWWD. He was inside me. On top of me. Everywhere. Our hairy chests grinding together, our nipples scoured by the other guy's chest hair. Sweat. Everywhere sweat.
Oh GOD. Fucking Jesse's ass had opened up a whole new world of sex to me... but Jesse fucking mine opened up an entire multiverse. HOLY SHIT. It was like I was cumming. My whole body pulsating with light. BRIGHT LIGHT. There was only Jesse... and the Light. Jesse's dick... and the Light. Jesse's sweat, Jesse's hands, Jesse's hair, Jesse's smell... AND THE LIGHT! I thrashed against him. Fucking out of my mind. My body on fire. The sheets tangled in my fingers. THE FUCKING LIGHT!
I blew. I didn't even know where it came from. My whole world went white as my body contorted, nearly lifting off the bed, and I blasted about 10 gallons of cum all over the both of us. Jesse followed suit, pumping out a screaming orgasm that made the bed shudder so badly I thought it would collapse.
He savagely made out with me, our bodies rippling with new experiences...
...and then we really started going after each other.
I can't even guess how many times we fucked that night, as we never really stopped. It was like a fucking hurricane of sex—limbs, sweat, cum, and roars. Constantly in motion. Constantly needing more. The raw physicality of it all... it was like we were fucking storming the beaches of Iwo Jima. As only guys can do.
Sometime later, I awoke. It was morning, with light filtering in from my lone window. I stretched and was suddenly aware that muscles I didn't even know I had were sore. Naked... I was still naked. I swung my legs off the bed, sitting up and letting my feet rest on the cool of the floor. I sat there. It took me a minute to gather the courage and look behind me. Yep, Jesse was still there, dead asleep on his side, facing me. The thin sheet draped over his lower torso.
Maybe it was best I couldn't see him in his full glory. Maybe I...
Fuck.
What the fuck happened. I must have been drunk out of my...
Shit.
I knew my body. I might have been well-lubricated, especially at first... but yeah, that excuse was weak sauce. I mean, sitting there, I was nowhere near being hung over. I roughly ran my hand across my stubbled chin, and... out of reflex smelled my fingers. Mmm. Man scent.
Yeah... fuck.
I had no coherent thought. Last night, swept up in everything, we were charging full-speed ahead without so much as a backward glance. Well now, I had time for backward glances a-plenty. Shit. Shitshitshit.
I'm not gay. I. Am. Not. Gay.
How did I let this happen? Why did I let it happen. And what the fuck was I going to do now?
I sat there for God knows how long, at the intersection of guilt and memory, my thoughts not even finishing themselves... shifting wildly...
A motion behind me... Jesse stirred. Shit. God, just look at him. Look at him. The living vision of what guys wanted to be, and what girls wanted to be with. And... where did I fit into that scheme of things? Jesse moved again, rubbing his hand down his face, rubbing his eye.
"Hey," he said simply. His voice raspy and eyes bleary.
"Hey man. 'Morning."
"You getting up?"
"Yeah." A long pause. Shit. After the endless river of conversation yesterday, right now I couldn't think of anything to say. Something. Say something. "I have to catch the morning bus, start making my way back to San José."
Jesse propped himself up slightly. "Yeah... got it." He looked at me, looked down, then went on cautiously, "Should we... I dunno... like trade... contact info? Or... something...?"
My brow furrowed. I mean, two random travelers on the road? How would that even work? Smart phones and social media were at least a decade into the future, making it nearly impossible to follow each other. I took in breath to respond he cut me off curtly. "Sorry, sorry. That's... yeah, I know." There was a long pause. He slid his body together and fully sat up. Sitting on the bed, slightly behind me. "Last night was... that was..." Silence.
"Yeah," I said simply. Silence weighed us down.
"I don't... I don't know what to say. I'd ask you if we're cool... but to be honest, I'm afraid to hear your answer. I'm not sure if 'yes' or 'no' scares me more."
I gave a humorless chuckle. Neither of us were looking at the other. It kinda hit me. Jesse wasn't some prick, he really was a good guy. A good guy thrown off as much as I was. No asshole bravado, no overconfident moves. Just... trying to make sense of what had happened. Shit. It was all so... easy... when it was happening. But now...?
Finally, Jesse let out a big sigh. "I wasn't lying last night. I've never done anything like this before. But I gotta say... thank you. It... um... just... thanks, man." He rested his hand on my shoulder, lightly. Not asking for anything or looking for anything, just acknowledging. Open and honest. Like he was.
Just another guy looking for a connection. And finding it.
I think that's what finally did me in. The sound of my bright, bold, buddy... a fucking King of the World... quietly acknowledging what we'd gone through. Not loudly, but a humbled sense of awe. It made all the bullshit circling in my mind fade away. Wiped away by the force of that connection we had.
As hard as it was, as uncertain as I was, I couldn't leave him hanging like that.
"Jesse." I looked up towards the ceiling, then down again, as memories played across my mind. "I... don't know that I'll ever be able to talk about this, with anyone else, ever again. For the rest of my life. But before I lock everything away, let me say... just once... out loud... This was... the best. You are... the best." My voice was no more than a murmur, quiet out of proportion to how important my words were. "I felt... alive. It wasn't just the sex, it was the sex with you. You..."
Jesse cut me off, leaning his forehead against my shoulder. I could feel his breath against my skin. I turned. Reached over, digging my fingers through his beard. That soft, slow scratch of him. Snaking my other arm around him. Pulling him up. His eyes. His fucking eyes. Our mouths met. Hard and wet.
And a million fucking butterflies in my stomach awoke... and took off at once.
We let our bodies say the things our words failed to do. It was better that way. His hands, his skin, the hair on his body, dried sweat and dried cum. All merged with mine. Fire. Determination to make every last fucking second count. Alive with each other. Fucking alive.
I went hard at all his hot spots from last night, showing I was paying attention, showing how strongly he lived in my memory. Honoring our time together. His scent, all his scents. Wanting them to be a part of me. Wanting to smell him for days. His hands. My mouth. The pressure. The force as we ground against each other. Legs entwined. Hairy nipples scratching against hairy nipples. Friction, and the slickness of sweat. He did the same, our breathing coming out in gasping rat-a-tat-tats.
Fired by him, by all of him, something inside me snapped. I was Noah Unleashed. We slammed together, like a fucking wresting match. Everything everywhere. Hunger we didn't even know we had consuming us whole.
I wrestled him onto all fours, and before he knew what hit him, I was fucking balls deep inside him. Hairy bush to hairy hole. My cockhead rearranging his innards. He snarled at the invasion. Violently pounding his fist on the bed. His guts pressing hard against my dick, nearly to the point of pain. I leaned down, my hairy chest dragging across his chest. We had fucked long and deep last night, our bodies flaring by the intensity, the ruthless hunger. But this was different, surprising me. This was a fucking explosion. The fucking Grand Finale of Fourth of July Fireworks. I fucking slammed him. Harder. HARDER.
I reared up, my hands digging into his hips. Going fucking wild, rapid-power hammer strokes. My blows as deep and violent as our feelings for each other. And he met me, power with power. Fucking me as hard as I was plowing him. Free form concerns. Free from convention. Finally free to be real men. Knowing we could take it. Knowing how we needed it. Honoring each other. Honoring our power.
Power.
Jesus. If I ever thought about gay sex, it was probably to sneer at it for being weak, and a weak substitute for the "real" thing.
Holy fucking shit. The fucking POWER we brought. Naked, relentless POWER. Ripping apart everything, let alone my stupid preconceived notions. Raw, thundering POWER. Wrestling with the gods POWER. Fucking masculine POWER.
My balls slapped against his ass, making a wonderfully nasty sound. My dick gorging him mercilessly, ripping into him too fast for him to react to. My body roared with volcanic fire, brighter and hotter than anything. The fucking end of the world. FASTER. HARDER. My animalistic cry ripped out of my throat, only to be drowned out by his. We fucking roared like a thousand screaming demons. Everyone in the whole fucking town must have heard us... and knew two men were coming together as Men. Goddamn, I was going to burn this moment forever into our memories forever.
And when we blasted our loads together, I swear I almost blacked out.
I barely made the bus, sprinting the last hundred feet before it pulled away. Sitting on those ancient school bus seats was like torture, especially on that wildly rough road. But it gave me smug satisfaction; I felt like I had well-earned battle scars.
I was tired enough that I did something I almost never do on road trips—I drifted off to sleep. And thought-dreamed about the weekend all the way back to civilization.
Yeah... they were right. Every man should travel alone. Alone, you're free from the millions of compromises we make every day to get through daily life. Free from our overdetermined sense of self. Away from constraints, you can finally, truly experience the world. Taste it. Feast on it. Decide things about it. You get a chance to root around in the dark corners of your mind, and find that maybe they're not so dark after all.
To grow up. And come back as a man.
Yeah... I was most definitely coming back feeling like a man.
And Jesse? Out there, somewhere?
Thank you.
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