The Beach House
- Thread starter IDreamaboutMen
- Start date
Oh yes - he likes the solitude and simplicity of it. Also wearing a wet suite makes the weather less challenging for him. He is a bit of an introvert as well.
Here is the fourth part of the Beach House, I've also published it on my Substack.
Part four
I paused, letting the moment stretch. What the fuck is happening? I wondered while gazing at him. What does he want? What does he want from me? I’d dreamed of something like this for so long, but never—never in my wildest fantasies—had I imagined something like this.
But there he was. Touching himself. Exposing himself. For me. Just for me. Because it turned him on. Because it made him hard.
Slowly, I released my grip on the counter and took the few steps toward him so I stood close enough to feel the warmth of his breath brushing against my nose. My movements were deliberate as I leaned in, letting the tip of my nose graze his. Our noses gently touched each other while our breaths swirled the air between is.
We used to do this before when we were younger. Our Eskimo kiss,we’d called it.
His eyes were so near—alive, searching, burning. Eager. Observant. Lusting. The sea seen through the windows reflected in his irises. Turquoise waves glittered against the golden mahogany depths of his gaze.
I circled my nose around his, barely letting us touch, our breaths mingling, our shared warmth almost touchable. Lips—his lips—so close now. So tantalizingly close.
I moved closer, letting my nose brush against his chin, and oh so lightly, my lips grazed his. Slow, deliberate movements, tracing a small, teasing circle. Not resting. Not waiting to be kissed.
He opened his mouth for me and I let my breath fill him. His tongue carefully resting, embracing the geneorous warmt it encountered.
Then, softly, my fingertips found his shoulder. Their touch was featherlight, delicate. I felt him shiver under my hand and saw questions flicker in his eyes—questions I wanted him to hold on to just a little longer.
His skin was so soft and warm. Dry. Pale freckles patterned randomly over his pale, alabaster-like surface. I let my fingers begin a slow journey, following the contours of his muscles. First, the sensitive curve of his shoulder, then down the length of his biceps, tracing his chest with a gentle, wandering touch.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting my join his, merging like mist into his open mouth as I pressed a bit closer.
My fingers found his nipple, and it grew firm at my touch, like it went alive under my hand. Then, almost by chance, the tip of his tongue brushed against mine, lingering there, tasting, for a fleeting moment before retreating.
I felt his erection press against my thigh—firm, throbbing, his blood-filled, rock-hard dick still confined beneath that oh-so-thin layer of yellow polyester.
My hand moved slowly downward, trailing the outlines of his ribs, savoring the rise and fall of his breath. Further still, I explored the softness of his skin, tracing the wave-like contours of his waist, feeling every subtle shift of his muscles beneath my touch.
I leaned closer, my lips seeking the delicate contour of his earlobe, while the smoothness of his not-so-shaven shin brushed against mine. That scent returned—salty seawater, the sweetness of Hawaiian Tropic, and the unmistakable muskiness that was him.
My tongue played over his earlobe, tasting its cool surface. He groaned, a low, guttural sound, leaning into me as a shiver rippled through his body.
And then, my fingers found his dick.
His body came to a halt. It was like he stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking. All he was capable of was sensing my feather-like touch against the fabric that kept his dick in lock.
My fingers moved further along its ridge, sensing its strength as it pushed even harder to get out. It was a long one. My fingers had to travel far to reach the head, with its sharp contours embedded within the softness of his balls.
I leaned my chin against his. Let my mouth slowly meet his neck. Licked his skin, then let my warm breath swirl over it.
He had let go of gripping his swim briefs, instead, he was leaning slightly back against the counter, resting on his hands, like a studio easel, displaying the art of his beautiful body.
I continued stroking the outline of his dick, my lips hovering just above his skin, breathing in his scent and the enclosed energy coursing through his body.
– You like this.
It wasn’t a question.
– Mmm, he answered, his eyes closed, his head tilting slightly as if surrendering to the moment.
– Good. I said, you should.
My fingers pressed with a touch more intensity now, a broader grip taking in both his dick and balls. I played with the hair there, my fingers tracing just above the lining of his swim briefs, teasing the edge of what lay beneath.
– You know I’m going to play with your dick, right?
– Uhum, yeah, he breathed, his voice barely audible.
– And you want me to?
– Aaaah, eeeehm… yeah.
– Please be clear.
– Yeah. He took a deep breath and continued: Yes. I want you to.
– Good.
I stayed silent, letting my fingertips trace the lining of his swim briefs. His trailing hair felt sturdy and a bit rough against them. My fingers wandered close to the edge, almost slipping inside, while my thumb gently stroked the shaft.
– You feel my fingers against your hard cock?
– Uhmmm.
– It’s hard, I said, very hard. Almost breaking the seams of your briefs… Do you always get this hard?
– Eeeh… yeah, sometimes. Maybe.
– Maybe?
– It… well… it’s a long time ago now… so… aaaah, I can’t remember.
– You can’t remember…
– Uuuhm, no.
He leaned back some more. Giving me free access to all that he had to offer.
I moved my hand to the back of his head, softly stroking the short hair on his neck, my touch light and deliberate. I kissed his earlobe.
– You know you will kiss me?
– Yeah… I guess
– You want to kiss me?
– Uuuuhm. Yeah.
I kissed his earlobe again.
– You want to kiss me like this?
He nodded slightly, and his dicked jerked under my touch. It filled the cup of my hand.
– Are you a good kisser? I asked softly.
– Eeeh, he took a short breath, maybe… maybe with you.
– You want me to take pictures of you.
– Yeah.
– Why?
– You…
He took another breath as my fingers slid just inside the fabric. His skin was almost boiling, and I felt the teasing brush of his pubes.
– You take great pics… you want to…
– Yeah… I said, slowly kissing his shoulder, but do you want to?
– I do. Yeah, I do.
Every word was a breath. I kissed his earlobe again, sensing the goosebumps rising along his neck.
– You shall show me everything.
– Yeah… I will… I’m yours…
– How you tease yourself…
– Aaah… yeah. OK.
– How you jerk off.
– Mhumm…
– Your rock-hard cock… how you play with your chest… your nipples… how your hand explores your thighs… how they trace the inside of your legs… under your balls…
I felt him nod, his breath shallow, his body responding to my every word.
– Legs wide apart, your dick like a lantern—strong, tall… you’re holding it in a firm grip, masturbating… while your other hand finds its way down… you known, down… in between your legs, playing… finding your crack… your hole…
I kissed his neck, and his hand began to search along my waist, gripping the edge of my swim briefs. He tugged the fabric down over my ass.
– Then you’ll turn… to show me your back… your strong, hard back… all those muscles… your broad shoulders… your ass. See it tense when you jerk off. You want me to see your ass.
– Yeah, he said, his voice heavy.
His hand drew me closer, pulling my briefs further down. Now it was my cock pressed firmly against his thigh.
I leaned my face into his neck, grabbing his hair as I held him close. He tilted his head against mine, his breaths deep and uneven, almost unable to speak. His hand wandered over my ass, searching for something to hold on to.
– Pull your briefs down, I told him. Over your ass.
I felt him shift, lifting his hips slightly off the counter so the fabric could slide past.
– Good, I said. Nice… What do you say about a little adventure?
My lips moved down to his chest. One hand still stroking his cock through the fabric, I let my tongue circle his nipple, kissing it softly. Tasting it. I’d started to know the mix of sea salt and sun lotion on his skin.
I made my way down, feeling his hand release its grip as it followed my movements. My nose brushed along the trail of hair on his stomach, my tongue playing with the sensitive skin around his navel. One hand stroked his thigh, up and down, the fine hair trembling under my touch. The scent of his musk deepened. His hand rested on my neck—a firm hold, not to guide me, but to bring us closer. To stabilize.
I sank to my knees before him, now face-to-face with his groin. My hands rested on his thighs, feeling their warmth and strength. With every breath I exhaled, its heat spread across his groin, and his dick pressed harder against the fabric, as if yearning for release.
His briefs were pulled down over his ass, leaving his dick to stand tall, like the center pole holding the circus tent upright. I leaned in, my tongue tracing the outline of his dick through the fabric. Slowly, deliberately, I licked along its length, leaving a trail of saliva across the swollen head. My hands roamed his thighs, feeling the shivers that coursed through him, each one like a jolt of electricity connecting us, running through my body as well.
Without a word, my hands gripped the sides of his briefs and began pulling them down. I leaned in, resting my face in the space between his dick and his thigh, letting that musky, heady scent envelop me.
As the fabric slid lower, I felt his pubes brushing against my chin, the dry warmth of his cock’s skin, and the full, shaved length of it growing next to my face.
I let my tongue flick lightly over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as I pushed the briefs down to his knees. His dick rose like a pillar, its stubborn stiffness pressing against my cheek as I lingered close.
I kept softly kissing and licking, my left hand traveling upwards his thigh, tracing the line of his Rectus femoris, feeling the taut muscle beneath the skin. My fingers wandered further, finally finding his balls—their playful weight and smooth, freshly shaved surface.
And then, there it was. That erect pillar, standing tall from a groomed bed of perfumed pubes. Like a sacred Egyptian obelisk of pleasure, waiting to be discovered.
I continued kissing the base of his shaft and the groomed pubes, my hand gripping his cock as I began to stroke it. I hadn’t seen it fully yet, but I could feel how I was drawn to it as if it had its own gravity.
It was long and athletic—just like its owner. My lips trailed up the shaft, inch by inch until I reached its middle. Then I paused, pulling my head back to take it all in.
The sight was overwhelming—intense and surreal. There he stood, naked before me like a statue of Anubis. Every muscle on his body, hard and defined, seemed to pulse with life, matching the heat of his cock. His thick thighs framed it perfectly, that cock that had been confined far too long. Not anymore.
I held his spear, firm and ready, feeling its weight and warmth in my hand. The head, which I’d only glimpsed through the fabric until now, was just inches from me—brimmed with heat, excitement, and anticipation. It was there to be touched, played with and devoured.
Part three
In my mind, vivid images flickered—how it shot thick, white streams of cum across Mats’ stomach, his chest, his nipples, his face. How some might even land on his lips, slipping into his mouth as he gasped for air, lost in the throes of his orgasm. How he would moan with a pleasure he’d never shared with me.
Not until now, anyway.
I examined it thoroughly—the hole at the tip, the way the veins shaped its outline, the gentle movement of the foreskin as I stroked it, the solid strength of its erection, and how intensely good it felt to jerk it in my hand.
Mats’ eyes followed my every move, a mix of excitement and caution glinting in his gaze. His briefs had slipped to the floor, and as he shifted to step out of them, I kept his dick in a firm grip, feeling its heat and weight, stroking him as he moved.
I leaned closer, teasing it with my breath, my tongue hovering just millimeters away—close enough for him to feel the warmth.
It was overwhelming. I was overwhelmed. By it. By touching it, by holding it in my hand, pulling the foreskin back and forth, sensing Mats’ pleasure with every motion. His hips thrust toward me, making his abs stand out even more, his hip bones carving a valley that framed his rock-hard cock and the pleasure it promised.
He let me discover him. He wanted me to.
But that constant conflict surged inside me. Would he take a step back and laugh this off? Make fun of my unfiltered adoration for him? My undeniable attraction, which I’d fought so hard to suppress? I had never wanted him to hold that kind of power over me. I had never wanted to need him this much.
At least not as obviously as I did now.
And yet, here I was, on my knees, his rock-hard erection almost brushing against my lips. My tongue darted out, wetting them, as if it had already decided my next move. My body was ready—eager for action—but my mind held back, hesitating.
Why? For fuck, fuckeli fuck’s sake, why? This is a fucking dream come true. This is the real thing! Mats wants me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Every bit of it. So, whatever the world has dumped on my shoulders: doubt, mistrust, low self-esteem, Mats being an annoying asshole, playing with my feelings whenever it suits him... Get. The. Fuck. Out.
I let my fingertips glide over his thighs again, and he reacted instantly. It was like my touch pulled invisible strings inside him, playing his lust like a puppet, making the hair on his skin stand up like a crowd cheering for more. He moved closer, inch by inch, drawn to me in an auto-pilot kind of way.
Closer to my mouth.
I’ve never felt like I’ve been living in slow motion. Rather the opposite—my world is a fast one. Always shifting gears, always chasing the rush, feeding off the energy, the thrill of it all. But now… I had no clue to what’s happening.
Because at that moment—all there was, was silence.
I kept my eyes on Mats’ face, calm and still, like one of those ancient statues hidden deep in a jungle, standing draped in leaves and obscurity. From where I was, it looked as if his face had been carved out of stone, resting on his thick pecs like cushions supporting that serene, godlike expression. His eyes were steady, unblinking, attentive.
He was completely lost in this.
My tongue stretched out before I even realized it, while I stayed locked on his gaze. Drawn to the dark, stormy beauty that swirled along there—the kind that always pulled me in, no matter how hard I tried to resist. The tip of my tongue brushed against something warm. Hot, even. It wobbled slightly as I moved closer, responding to my touch. My mouth opened. Wider. Wider still. And then it was in.
The heat of it. The dry texture against my lips. The sheer weight of it, the way it pushed into the space, filling me to the brim.
But this looks so much easier on Pornhub.
My jaw ached slightly as I realized I needed to open much wider. Much wider. I took a deep breath, lowered my cheek even further, and moved forward, trying to take it all in. Well, to be honest, I wasn’t even close. It was like I barely managed to swallow the head before it reached my soft palate, and the sudden gag reflex hit me with surprise.
I choked hard for a second, coughing as tears sprang to my eyes. A sudden snorting sound escaped me as I struggled to keep the dick in my mouth—well, actually working very hard to do so. Determined, for fucks sake, I am a deep throater!, I took another shot, trying to push it further in—and then I saw Mats’ face, desperately trying (and failing) to hide a laugh.
He’d never been very good at hiding laughs. Neither had I.
And then, of course, some deranged part of me decided to replay the scene in my head. There I was—on my knees, my bare ass out, swim briefs pulled down just enough to barely cover my boner. Tears streaming down my face, gripping Mats’ thighs for balance, his cock only barely in my mouth. Coughing. Snorting.
And Mats—standing there naked, his long dick pointing out, one hand gripping the counter to steady himself. Bare-assed, legs spread, trying (and failing) to stifle that bubbling laugh as he watched me struggle to swallow him through this ridiculous mess.
I mean, it could have been a lot sexier, couldn’t it?
After that, it all just went hay-wire. I began to laugh, still having his cock in my mouth. And Mats just couldn’t keep it within him either. It seemed like those giggles began in his hips, making his cock shake, which made the head bounce against my soft palate and then… well, I lost it too. While almost puking.
Do you know how tricky it is to stay cool when you’re trying to blow someone (also for the first time, nota bene) and the guy you’re blowing is laughing his head off?
Well, let me tell you—it’s very hard. And it’s equally hard to laugh with a dick in your mouth while realizing you have to control your moves so you don’t accidentally bite it mid-giggle.
At the same time, all of this makes it really hard not to laugh.
So there we were. Going from ultra horny to giggling like embarrassed kids in a sex-ed class in biology in less than a second. Mats’ dick wobbling in my mouth like a gyro gone rogue. Me, tears streaming down my face, gripping his thighs like my life depended on it, all while trying not to cause any permanent damage to his genitals. Choking and snorting, but never letting go of that cock for a second.
So yeah, our first very sexual encounter… It might go down in history, but not for the reasons I had hoped for.
Mats soon slowly withdrew his cock from my mouth, and I wiped some of the tears from my face, trying to suppress the last remnants of the gagging and choking sounds my body had so generously offered up.
I stumbled to my feet, feeling Mats’ arms grip my waist to steady me. He was still chuckling, the sound bubbling up as he fought to control his laughter. His dick wobbled against my thigh—still hard, though clearly on the decline.
We leaned into each other, our chins close, letting the giggles slowly die down.
– Sorry, I said between breaths, still catching my composure. This looks sooo much easier on Pornhub.
– Oh, Erik, Mats said as he gently wiped my cheek… it was amazing. And, I think you are… I mean, you’re such a… pro.
We both burst into laughter all over again.
– I am! I shouted, still drying some tears. I really am! Let me see youswallow that dick of yours without getting hurt. For god’s sake, this gentle mouth of mine is used to IKEA sausages, not… bratwurst.
– Oh, so that’s the problem, is it? Me bratwursting you?
– Well, yes! You could say that. I mean, it’s a lot to get a grip on… I’ts not like I’ve been brought up on Reeperbahn, ist it? You don’t get bratwursted at school, do you?
Mats got a pensive look.
– Well, maybe not—unless you’re attending British boarding schools. From what I’ve heard, there’s a lot of bratwursting going on there. That and apples-in-mouth kind of thingies.
– Oh, the Brits. Gotta love ’em. You can always count on them to make life complicated. And also, for turning vegetables into sex toys instead of food.
– Yes, they do seem to have a certain talent for that. Eating ass before salad and all. But it raises an important question: would you rather be bratwursted or appled?
I paused, pretending to think deeply for a moment, then answered:
– To be honest, I think this was a bit of both.
And just like that, we were laughing all over again.
-To be continued…
Part four
I paused, letting the moment stretch. What the fuck is happening? I wondered while gazing at him. What does he want? What does he want from me? I’d dreamed of something like this for so long, but never—never in my wildest fantasies—had I imagined something like this.
But there he was. Touching himself. Exposing himself. For me. Just for me. Because it turned him on. Because it made him hard.
Slowly, I released my grip on the counter and took the few steps toward him so I stood close enough to feel the warmth of his breath brushing against my nose. My movements were deliberate as I leaned in, letting the tip of my nose graze his. Our noses gently touched each other while our breaths swirled the air between is.
We used to do this before when we were younger. Our Eskimo kiss,we’d called it.
His eyes were so near—alive, searching, burning. Eager. Observant. Lusting. The sea seen through the windows reflected in his irises. Turquoise waves glittered against the golden mahogany depths of his gaze.
I circled my nose around his, barely letting us touch, our breaths mingling, our shared warmth almost touchable. Lips—his lips—so close now. So tantalizingly close.
I moved closer, letting my nose brush against his chin, and oh so lightly, my lips grazed his. Slow, deliberate movements, tracing a small, teasing circle. Not resting. Not waiting to be kissed.
He opened his mouth for me and I let my breath fill him. His tongue carefully resting, embracing the geneorous warmt it encountered.
Then, softly, my fingertips found his shoulder. Their touch was featherlight, delicate. I felt him shiver under my hand and saw questions flicker in his eyes—questions I wanted him to hold on to just a little longer.
His skin was so soft and warm. Dry. Pale freckles patterned randomly over his pale, alabaster-like surface. I let my fingers begin a slow journey, following the contours of his muscles. First, the sensitive curve of his shoulder, then down the length of his biceps, tracing his chest with a gentle, wandering touch.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting my join his, merging like mist into his open mouth as I pressed a bit closer.
My fingers found his nipple, and it grew firm at my touch, like it went alive under my hand. Then, almost by chance, the tip of his tongue brushed against mine, lingering there, tasting, for a fleeting moment before retreating.
I felt his erection press against my thigh—firm, throbbing, his blood-filled, rock-hard dick still confined beneath that oh-so-thin layer of yellow polyester.
My hand moved slowly downward, trailing the outlines of his ribs, savoring the rise and fall of his breath. Further still, I explored the softness of his skin, tracing the wave-like contours of his waist, feeling every subtle shift of his muscles beneath my touch.
I leaned closer, my lips seeking the delicate contour of his earlobe, while the smoothness of his not-so-shaven shin brushed against mine. That scent returned—salty seawater, the sweetness of Hawaiian Tropic, and the unmistakable muskiness that was him.
My tongue played over his earlobe, tasting its cool surface. He groaned, a low, guttural sound, leaning into me as a shiver rippled through his body.
And then, my fingers found his dick.
His body came to a halt. It was like he stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking. All he was capable of was sensing my feather-like touch against the fabric that kept his dick in lock.
My fingers moved further along its ridge, sensing its strength as it pushed even harder to get out. It was a long one. My fingers had to travel far to reach the head, with its sharp contours embedded within the softness of his balls.
I leaned my chin against his. Let my mouth slowly meet his neck. Licked his skin, then let my warm breath swirl over it.
He had let go of gripping his swim briefs, instead, he was leaning slightly back against the counter, resting on his hands, like a studio easel, displaying the art of his beautiful body.
I continued stroking the outline of his dick, my lips hovering just above his skin, breathing in his scent and the enclosed energy coursing through his body.
– You like this.
It wasn’t a question.
– Mmm, he answered, his eyes closed, his head tilting slightly as if surrendering to the moment.
– Good. I said, you should.
My fingers pressed with a touch more intensity now, a broader grip taking in both his dick and balls. I played with the hair there, my fingers tracing just above the lining of his swim briefs, teasing the edge of what lay beneath.
– You know I’m going to play with your dick, right?
– Uhum, yeah, he breathed, his voice barely audible.
– And you want me to?
– Aaaah, eeeehm… yeah.
– Please be clear.
– Yeah. He took a deep breath and continued: Yes. I want you to.
– Good.
I stayed silent, letting my fingertips trace the lining of his swim briefs. His trailing hair felt sturdy and a bit rough against them. My fingers wandered close to the edge, almost slipping inside, while my thumb gently stroked the shaft.
– You feel my fingers against your hard cock?
– Uhmmm.
– It’s hard, I said, very hard. Almost breaking the seams of your briefs… Do you always get this hard?
– Eeeh… yeah, sometimes. Maybe.
– Maybe?
– It… well… it’s a long time ago now… so… aaaah, I can’t remember.
– You can’t remember…
– Uuuhm, no.
He leaned back some more. Giving me free access to all that he had to offer.
I moved my hand to the back of his head, softly stroking the short hair on his neck, my touch light and deliberate. I kissed his earlobe.
– You know you will kiss me?
– Yeah… I guess
– You want to kiss me?
– Uuuuhm. Yeah.
I kissed his earlobe again.
– You want to kiss me like this?
He nodded slightly, and his dicked jerked under my touch. It filled the cup of my hand.
– Are you a good kisser? I asked softly.
– Eeeh, he took a short breath, maybe… maybe with you.
– You want me to take pictures of you.
– Yeah.
– Why?
– You…
He took another breath as my fingers slid just inside the fabric. His skin was almost boiling, and I felt the teasing brush of his pubes.
– You take great pics… you want to…
– Yeah… I said, slowly kissing his shoulder, but do you want to?
– I do. Yeah, I do.
Every word was a breath. I kissed his earlobe again, sensing the goosebumps rising along his neck.
– You shall show me everything.
– Yeah… I will… I’m yours…
– How you tease yourself…
– Aaah… yeah. OK.
– How you jerk off.
– Mhumm…
– Your rock-hard cock… how you play with your chest… your nipples… how your hand explores your thighs… how they trace the inside of your legs… under your balls…
I felt him nod, his breath shallow, his body responding to my every word.
– Legs wide apart, your dick like a lantern—strong, tall… you’re holding it in a firm grip, masturbating… while your other hand finds its way down… you known, down… in between your legs, playing… finding your crack… your hole…
I kissed his neck, and his hand began to search along my waist, gripping the edge of my swim briefs. He tugged the fabric down over my ass.
– Then you’ll turn… to show me your back… your strong, hard back… all those muscles… your broad shoulders… your ass. See it tense when you jerk off. You want me to see your ass.
– Yeah, he said, his voice heavy.
His hand drew me closer, pulling my briefs further down. Now it was my cock pressed firmly against his thigh.
I leaned my face into his neck, grabbing his hair as I held him close. He tilted his head against mine, his breaths deep and uneven, almost unable to speak. His hand wandered over my ass, searching for something to hold on to.
– Pull your briefs down, I told him. Over your ass.
I felt him shift, lifting his hips slightly off the counter so the fabric could slide past.
– Good, I said. Nice… What do you say about a little adventure?
My lips moved down to his chest. One hand still stroking his cock through the fabric, I let my tongue circle his nipple, kissing it softly. Tasting it. I’d started to know the mix of sea salt and sun lotion on his skin.
I made my way down, feeling his hand release its grip as it followed my movements. My nose brushed along the trail of hair on his stomach, my tongue playing with the sensitive skin around his navel. One hand stroked his thigh, up and down, the fine hair trembling under my touch. The scent of his musk deepened. His hand rested on my neck—a firm hold, not to guide me, but to bring us closer. To stabilize.
I sank to my knees before him, now face-to-face with his groin. My hands rested on his thighs, feeling their warmth and strength. With every breath I exhaled, its heat spread across his groin, and his dick pressed harder against the fabric, as if yearning for release.
His briefs were pulled down over his ass, leaving his dick to stand tall, like the center pole holding the circus tent upright. I leaned in, my tongue tracing the outline of his dick through the fabric. Slowly, deliberately, I licked along its length, leaving a trail of saliva across the swollen head. My hands roamed his thighs, feeling the shivers that coursed through him, each one like a jolt of electricity connecting us, running through my body as well.
Without a word, my hands gripped the sides of his briefs and began pulling them down. I leaned in, resting my face in the space between his dick and his thigh, letting that musky, heady scent envelop me.
As the fabric slid lower, I felt his pubes brushing against my chin, the dry warmth of his cock’s skin, and the full, shaved length of it growing next to my face.
I let my tongue flick lightly over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as I pushed the briefs down to his knees. His dick rose like a pillar, its stubborn stiffness pressing against my cheek as I lingered close.
I kept softly kissing and licking, my left hand traveling upwards his thigh, tracing the line of his Rectus femoris, feeling the taut muscle beneath the skin. My fingers wandered further, finally finding his balls—their playful weight and smooth, freshly shaved surface.
And then, there it was. That erect pillar, standing tall from a groomed bed of perfumed pubes. Like a sacred Egyptian obelisk of pleasure, waiting to be discovered.
I continued kissing the base of his shaft and the groomed pubes, my hand gripping his cock as I began to stroke it. I hadn’t seen it fully yet, but I could feel how I was drawn to it as if it had its own gravity.
It was long and athletic—just like its owner. My lips trailed up the shaft, inch by inch until I reached its middle. Then I paused, pulling my head back to take it all in.
The sight was overwhelming—intense and surreal. There he stood, naked before me like a statue of Anubis. Every muscle on his body, hard and defined, seemed to pulse with life, matching the heat of his cock. His thick thighs framed it perfectly, that cock that had been confined far too long. Not anymore.
I held his spear, firm and ready, feeling its weight and warmth in my hand. The head, which I’d only glimpsed through the fabric until now, was just inches from me—brimmed with heat, excitement, and anticipation. It was there to be touched, played with and devoured.
Part three
In my mind, vivid images flickered—how it shot thick, white streams of cum across Mats’ stomach, his chest, his nipples, his face. How some might even land on his lips, slipping into his mouth as he gasped for air, lost in the throes of his orgasm. How he would moan with a pleasure he’d never shared with me.
Not until now, anyway.
I examined it thoroughly—the hole at the tip, the way the veins shaped its outline, the gentle movement of the foreskin as I stroked it, the solid strength of its erection, and how intensely good it felt to jerk it in my hand.
Mats’ eyes followed my every move, a mix of excitement and caution glinting in his gaze. His briefs had slipped to the floor, and as he shifted to step out of them, I kept his dick in a firm grip, feeling its heat and weight, stroking him as he moved.
I leaned closer, teasing it with my breath, my tongue hovering just millimeters away—close enough for him to feel the warmth.
It was overwhelming. I was overwhelmed. By it. By touching it, by holding it in my hand, pulling the foreskin back and forth, sensing Mats’ pleasure with every motion. His hips thrust toward me, making his abs stand out even more, his hip bones carving a valley that framed his rock-hard cock and the pleasure it promised.
He let me discover him. He wanted me to.
But that constant conflict surged inside me. Would he take a step back and laugh this off? Make fun of my unfiltered adoration for him? My undeniable attraction, which I’d fought so hard to suppress? I had never wanted him to hold that kind of power over me. I had never wanted to need him this much.
At least not as obviously as I did now.
And yet, here I was, on my knees, his rock-hard erection almost brushing against my lips. My tongue darted out, wetting them, as if it had already decided my next move. My body was ready—eager for action—but my mind held back, hesitating.
Why? For fuck, fuckeli fuck’s sake, why? This is a fucking dream come true. This is the real thing! Mats wants me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Every bit of it. So, whatever the world has dumped on my shoulders: doubt, mistrust, low self-esteem, Mats being an annoying asshole, playing with my feelings whenever it suits him... Get. The. Fuck. Out.
I let my fingertips glide over his thighs again, and he reacted instantly. It was like my touch pulled invisible strings inside him, playing his lust like a puppet, making the hair on his skin stand up like a crowd cheering for more. He moved closer, inch by inch, drawn to me in an auto-pilot kind of way.
Closer to my mouth.
I’ve never felt like I’ve been living in slow motion. Rather the opposite—my world is a fast one. Always shifting gears, always chasing the rush, feeding off the energy, the thrill of it all. But now… I had no clue to what’s happening.
Because at that moment—all there was, was silence.
I kept my eyes on Mats’ face, calm and still, like one of those ancient statues hidden deep in a jungle, standing draped in leaves and obscurity. From where I was, it looked as if his face had been carved out of stone, resting on his thick pecs like cushions supporting that serene, godlike expression. His eyes were steady, unblinking, attentive.
He was completely lost in this.
My tongue stretched out before I even realized it, while I stayed locked on his gaze. Drawn to the dark, stormy beauty that swirled along there—the kind that always pulled me in, no matter how hard I tried to resist. The tip of my tongue brushed against something warm. Hot, even. It wobbled slightly as I moved closer, responding to my touch. My mouth opened. Wider. Wider still. And then it was in.
The heat of it. The dry texture against my lips. The sheer weight of it, the way it pushed into the space, filling me to the brim.
But this looks so much easier on Pornhub.
My jaw ached slightly as I realized I needed to open much wider. Much wider. I took a deep breath, lowered my cheek even further, and moved forward, trying to take it all in. Well, to be honest, I wasn’t even close. It was like I barely managed to swallow the head before it reached my soft palate, and the sudden gag reflex hit me with surprise.
I choked hard for a second, coughing as tears sprang to my eyes. A sudden snorting sound escaped me as I struggled to keep the dick in my mouth—well, actually working very hard to do so. Determined, for fucks sake, I am a deep throater!, I took another shot, trying to push it further in—and then I saw Mats’ face, desperately trying (and failing) to hide a laugh.
He’d never been very good at hiding laughs. Neither had I.
And then, of course, some deranged part of me decided to replay the scene in my head. There I was—on my knees, my bare ass out, swim briefs pulled down just enough to barely cover my boner. Tears streaming down my face, gripping Mats’ thighs for balance, his cock only barely in my mouth. Coughing. Snorting.
And Mats—standing there naked, his long dick pointing out, one hand gripping the counter to steady himself. Bare-assed, legs spread, trying (and failing) to stifle that bubbling laugh as he watched me struggle to swallow him through this ridiculous mess.
I mean, it could have been a lot sexier, couldn’t it?
After that, it all just went hay-wire. I began to laugh, still having his cock in my mouth. And Mats just couldn’t keep it within him either. It seemed like those giggles began in his hips, making his cock shake, which made the head bounce against my soft palate and then… well, I lost it too. While almost puking.
Do you know how tricky it is to stay cool when you’re trying to blow someone (also for the first time, nota bene) and the guy you’re blowing is laughing his head off?
Well, let me tell you—it’s very hard. And it’s equally hard to laugh with a dick in your mouth while realizing you have to control your moves so you don’t accidentally bite it mid-giggle.
At the same time, all of this makes it really hard not to laugh.
So there we were. Going from ultra horny to giggling like embarrassed kids in a sex-ed class in biology in less than a second. Mats’ dick wobbling in my mouth like a gyro gone rogue. Me, tears streaming down my face, gripping his thighs like my life depended on it, all while trying not to cause any permanent damage to his genitals. Choking and snorting, but never letting go of that cock for a second.
So yeah, our first very sexual encounter… It might go down in history, but not for the reasons I had hoped for.
Mats soon slowly withdrew his cock from my mouth, and I wiped some of the tears from my face, trying to suppress the last remnants of the gagging and choking sounds my body had so generously offered up.
I stumbled to my feet, feeling Mats’ arms grip my waist to steady me. He was still chuckling, the sound bubbling up as he fought to control his laughter. His dick wobbled against my thigh—still hard, though clearly on the decline.
We leaned into each other, our chins close, letting the giggles slowly die down.
– Sorry, I said between breaths, still catching my composure. This looks sooo much easier on Pornhub.
– Oh, Erik, Mats said as he gently wiped my cheek… it was amazing. And, I think you are… I mean, you’re such a… pro.
We both burst into laughter all over again.
– I am! I shouted, still drying some tears. I really am! Let me see youswallow that dick of yours without getting hurt. For god’s sake, this gentle mouth of mine is used to IKEA sausages, not… bratwurst.
– Oh, so that’s the problem, is it? Me bratwursting you?
– Well, yes! You could say that. I mean, it’s a lot to get a grip on… I’ts not like I’ve been brought up on Reeperbahn, ist it? You don’t get bratwursted at school, do you?
Mats got a pensive look.
– Well, maybe not—unless you’re attending British boarding schools. From what I’ve heard, there’s a lot of bratwursting going on there. That and apples-in-mouth kind of thingies.
– Oh, the Brits. Gotta love ’em. You can always count on them to make life complicated. And also, for turning vegetables into sex toys instead of food.
– Yes, they do seem to have a certain talent for that. Eating ass before salad and all. But it raises an important question: would you rather be bratwursted or appled?
I paused, pretending to think deeply for a moment, then answered:
– To be honest, I think this was a bit of both.
And just like that, we were laughing all over again.
-To be continued…
I did some changes to the end of part three, as I decided to take the story in another direction (as there is a limit of charachters here, most of the changes are on Substack. Subtle, but imporant I think. As always — I hope you like it. Always nice to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. 
Now that was a very good addition...
Big thanks for your kind words
Hi guys, this thread is getting longer and longer - should I create a new thread for every part? Tell me. I just don't want it to be as easy to read as possible.
Anywas, here is the fifth part of The Beach House where things are heating up a little...
As always, you find the story, and some more, on my Substack. You're more than welcome to follow me there also.
Warm regards
/Chris
His arms stayed locked around my waist as our heads leaned into each other, the laughter slowly fading into quiet smiles.
I couldn’t believe we were standing there, so close, so carefree—caressing each other like this. Nude, except for my swim briefs still clinging to my hips. How natural it felt to have his slowly softening dick resting against my thigh, his pubes brushing against mine, his arms simply holding me near.
He didn’t pull away from the hug. Neither did I. We stayed like that for a while, catching our breaths, letting our heartbeats slow until they matched, beating in quiet unison.
Then I felt his nose bumping against my cheek, like a dog looking for attention. I turned my face toward his with a questioning look. He moved closer, our noses brushing again—not like our playful Eskimo kiss, but something more deliberate.
And so he kissed me.
It started slow, gentle—our noses barely touching. I responded instinctively, parting my lips slightly, letting us share our breaths again. Then our tongues met, briefly at first, before our mouths widened, freeing them completely. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, caressing them, while his hands slid down my waist, gripping my ass cheeks firmly, spreading them , then pulling his fingers deeper and me closer into his body.
We didn’t speak, but the sound of our breaths… fuck. A steam engine would have been more discreet.
I pushed my groin against his, my dick so hard it found its way out on its own, happily trapped between our bodies—along with Mats’, who had reached a new, very inspired (and very rock-hard) state.
We were kissing and dry fucking like rabbits on speed.
I grabbed his hair, pulling him closer, pressing his face and lips hard against mine. His breathing was ferocious—nostrils flaring, thundering with the intensity of it all.
And how I jerked, pushing my body against his. My swim briefs soon dropped to the floor as Mats’ hands roamed over my ass, our dicks sliding against each other like pistons.
He responded to my every move—groaning, sighing, kissing, smiling. His strong hands—I mean, holding that sail rig had obviously done wonders for his grip—left no doubt about how much he wanted me, how much he wanted us to merge into one.
I couldn’t resist any longer—I needed to feel his cock again. My right hand slid down his side, faster this time, his skin slick with sweat. Then I found it—the head, hot and firm, popping out between us. I shifted slightly to get a proper grip, wrapping my fingers around it.
The force was strong in this one. Holding it felt like a high-definition upgrade of an ordinary wank. It was rock solid, steel-like, filled to the brim, as if it was moments away from exploding. The head was so sharp it could’ve doubled as a hammer.
My hand started working it, moving smoothly in the sweat-filled tornado we were caught in, giving him the most intense masturbation he’d ever experienced.
I turned slightly so I could look down at it: my hand caressing my best friend’s cock—that beautiful, fucking erect shlong of his. And not just caressing it—I was giving it my absolute best, pleasuring it in all the great ways known to mankind.
I mean, millions of years of human evolution, exploration, and die-hard masturbation had led to this very moment, and I wasn’t about to let history down. No Sir!
Mats looked down as well and began stroking my chest while I was at it. Slowly, his hand found its way down my stomach, down to my cock, resting over the base of his. Our skin gleamed with sweat, catching the sunlight that reflected through the windows.
Suddenly, we found ourselves holding each other’s backs while masturbating. His hand on my back sent a spark of energy through my hips, straight to my dick. The angle became a bit awkward, so soon, without a word, and still in unison, we shifted—each of us wanking our own cock. Our heads so close, our eyes locked on the same target, never shifting focus.
I’d never seen his body from this angle: the width of his broad pecs from so close above, the sensual curve of his belly, and that luscious trail of hair leading down to the neatly trimmed, dark patch from where his dick erupted like a rocket on the gently sloping hill of his groin, nestled between those powerful, voluptuous thighs.
– Fuck, you’re big, he said, moving his hand back and forth. Huge!
– Is it? I asked, struggling to catch my breath.
– Hell yeah… it is. I love it.… amazing.
Mats was a sweater, and our dicks glistened from the steady drip of sweat pouring off his face and upper body. Thin streams ran downward, accentuating every contour of his chest and abs, gleaming in the dim light.
– Mats, I said, yours… yours is amazing. I will have it, you know.
– You will?
– Oh yes. Big time. All in. Aaaal in.
– Fuck yeah, he breathed. All in. All the way.
– I’ll eat it.
– You should. Fuckin’ should. Swallow it. All of it. I want it deep, Erik. Deep.
– You will get it, Mats. You will. And you’ll shoot that load right into it. Deep into it.
– Really?
We were jerking like crazy now. Completely lost in the motion, side to side, our bodies glued together. Not a single molecule could have squeezed its way between us.
The heads of our dicks were turning red from the friction, and I felt mine reaching a new level of erection. I knew I was about to cum
– Fuck, Mats, I whispered, so faint I could barely speak. I’m close.
– Me too, he panted. Getting there… so soon.
– Let’s do it, I said. Let’s shoot together.
Mats didn’t answer—he was too far gone, lost in the rhythm—but we moved in perfect sync, almost violent in our motions. Our hands moved faster, harder, and our dicks somehow grew even more erect, if that was even possible.
Then we shifted, standing face to face, our bodies so close that nothing but the tips of our cocks separated us. We moved in, pressing against each other, until the first brutal wave hit. We let out deep, guttural sounds as cum shot from our hips, splattering against each other’s stomachs and pubic hair, dripping down and covering our cocks in thick, sticky streams.
The blows came in turns, shivering through our thighs, sending waves of pleasure all the way to our shoulders, backs, and the backs of our legs. Every single muscle tensed and reacted to make our cum shoot in strong, forceful bursts.
Our hands kept moving, coaxing out every last drop, as the sperm kept flowing. Our heads leaned heavily on each other, Mats’ musky scent now blending with the damp, sweet smell of cum.
The heat of it mixed with the friction of our skin, leaving us panting, bodies trembling, as the final pulses of pleasure coursed through us.
Then we just stood there for a while. Breathing, sweaty, nude, still leaning on each other, our faces resting on the other’s shoulder. Feeling drowsy.
– Fuuuck, was all Mats could manage.
I nodded, slowly letting go of my dick while absentmindedly brushing my fingers through the hair on Mats’ neck. He shivered and smiled.
– That was gooood, he said in a dark, husky voice. Goddamn, that was good.
– Yeah, it was. It really was.
We both stood there, catching our breath.
– Was it worth the wait?
– Ask me in ten minutes, Mats. I’m… just not really functional at the moment. But my guess is, it was.
I leaned back, stretching my shoulders, and wiped some cum off my hand onto my thigh.
– I’ll taste it next time, OK?
Mats let out a coarse, soft laugh.
– I’ll make sure of that.
We both turned toward the sink to wash our hands. I grabbed some paper to clean up the cum on our bodies, and I’m pretty sure we were both watching each other while we did it. There was something both strange and oddly natural about standing there, naked and close, wiping cum off after what… having sex? Well, some kind of sex, anyway. Or did it count?
– Was this us having sex? I asked.
– I hope it was, Mats replied. It was very much sex to me, at least. Then he looked a bit confused. – What kind of standards do you have if this wasn’t sex?
I laughed.
– I don’t know, I said. I obviously don’t know. But yeah, hell yeah, this was sex.
– And pretty damn good sex, for that matter. I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm like that. He shook his head. – Look at me—I’m still shivering. Legs trembling.
– Well, that’s what happens when you’re doing it with a pro.
– Aaah, that’s right, he said smiling, You’re the pro.
We both started laughing at the memory of just a few minutes ago.
– Well, I am now, I said. This has to count as pretty fucking pro-level.
– It was. It is. You’re the fucking best, Erik. And you let that sink in now, OK? No more “Mats, I don’t trust that you love me” thing. No more “I’m not hot” or anything like that. Right?
I stretched like I’d just woken up and smiled back at him.
– Aaah, OK. I guess I just have to accept the fact that I’m a gorgeous, super sexy mega hunk.
– Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? Super sexy hunk is a good start. The mega can wait until… you know… and there it was again, that mischievous smile of his… the next time.
-To be continued…
Anywas, here is the fifth part of The Beach House where things are heating up a little...
As always, you find the story, and some more, on my Substack. You're more than welcome to follow me there also.
Warm regards
/Chris
His arms stayed locked around my waist as our heads leaned into each other, the laughter slowly fading into quiet smiles.
I couldn’t believe we were standing there, so close, so carefree—caressing each other like this. Nude, except for my swim briefs still clinging to my hips. How natural it felt to have his slowly softening dick resting against my thigh, his pubes brushing against mine, his arms simply holding me near.
He didn’t pull away from the hug. Neither did I. We stayed like that for a while, catching our breaths, letting our heartbeats slow until they matched, beating in quiet unison.
Then I felt his nose bumping against my cheek, like a dog looking for attention. I turned my face toward his with a questioning look. He moved closer, our noses brushing again—not like our playful Eskimo kiss, but something more deliberate.
And so he kissed me.
It started slow, gentle—our noses barely touching. I responded instinctively, parting my lips slightly, letting us share our breaths again. Then our tongues met, briefly at first, before our mouths widened, freeing them completely. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, caressing them, while his hands slid down my waist, gripping my ass cheeks firmly, spreading them , then pulling his fingers deeper and me closer into his body.
We didn’t speak, but the sound of our breaths… fuck. A steam engine would have been more discreet.
I pushed my groin against his, my dick so hard it found its way out on its own, happily trapped between our bodies—along with Mats’, who had reached a new, very inspired (and very rock-hard) state.
We were kissing and dry fucking like rabbits on speed.
I grabbed his hair, pulling him closer, pressing his face and lips hard against mine. His breathing was ferocious—nostrils flaring, thundering with the intensity of it all.
And how I jerked, pushing my body against his. My swim briefs soon dropped to the floor as Mats’ hands roamed over my ass, our dicks sliding against each other like pistons.
He responded to my every move—groaning, sighing, kissing, smiling. His strong hands—I mean, holding that sail rig had obviously done wonders for his grip—left no doubt about how much he wanted me, how much he wanted us to merge into one.
I couldn’t resist any longer—I needed to feel his cock again. My right hand slid down his side, faster this time, his skin slick with sweat. Then I found it—the head, hot and firm, popping out between us. I shifted slightly to get a proper grip, wrapping my fingers around it.
The force was strong in this one. Holding it felt like a high-definition upgrade of an ordinary wank. It was rock solid, steel-like, filled to the brim, as if it was moments away from exploding. The head was so sharp it could’ve doubled as a hammer.
My hand started working it, moving smoothly in the sweat-filled tornado we were caught in, giving him the most intense masturbation he’d ever experienced.
I turned slightly so I could look down at it: my hand caressing my best friend’s cock—that beautiful, fucking erect shlong of his. And not just caressing it—I was giving it my absolute best, pleasuring it in all the great ways known to mankind.
I mean, millions of years of human evolution, exploration, and die-hard masturbation had led to this very moment, and I wasn’t about to let history down. No Sir!
Mats looked down as well and began stroking my chest while I was at it. Slowly, his hand found its way down my stomach, down to my cock, resting over the base of his. Our skin gleamed with sweat, catching the sunlight that reflected through the windows.
Suddenly, we found ourselves holding each other’s backs while masturbating. His hand on my back sent a spark of energy through my hips, straight to my dick. The angle became a bit awkward, so soon, without a word, and still in unison, we shifted—each of us wanking our own cock. Our heads so close, our eyes locked on the same target, never shifting focus.
I’d never seen his body from this angle: the width of his broad pecs from so close above, the sensual curve of his belly, and that luscious trail of hair leading down to the neatly trimmed, dark patch from where his dick erupted like a rocket on the gently sloping hill of his groin, nestled between those powerful, voluptuous thighs.
– Fuck, you’re big, he said, moving his hand back and forth. Huge!
– Is it? I asked, struggling to catch my breath.
– Hell yeah… it is. I love it.… amazing.
Mats was a sweater, and our dicks glistened from the steady drip of sweat pouring off his face and upper body. Thin streams ran downward, accentuating every contour of his chest and abs, gleaming in the dim light.
– Mats, I said, yours… yours is amazing. I will have it, you know.
– You will?
– Oh yes. Big time. All in. Aaaal in.
– Fuck yeah, he breathed. All in. All the way.
– I’ll eat it.
– You should. Fuckin’ should. Swallow it. All of it. I want it deep, Erik. Deep.
– You will get it, Mats. You will. And you’ll shoot that load right into it. Deep into it.
– Really?
We were jerking like crazy now. Completely lost in the motion, side to side, our bodies glued together. Not a single molecule could have squeezed its way between us.
The heads of our dicks were turning red from the friction, and I felt mine reaching a new level of erection. I knew I was about to cum
– Fuck, Mats, I whispered, so faint I could barely speak. I’m close.
– Me too, he panted. Getting there… so soon.
– Let’s do it, I said. Let’s shoot together.
Mats didn’t answer—he was too far gone, lost in the rhythm—but we moved in perfect sync, almost violent in our motions. Our hands moved faster, harder, and our dicks somehow grew even more erect, if that was even possible.
Then we shifted, standing face to face, our bodies so close that nothing but the tips of our cocks separated us. We moved in, pressing against each other, until the first brutal wave hit. We let out deep, guttural sounds as cum shot from our hips, splattering against each other’s stomachs and pubic hair, dripping down and covering our cocks in thick, sticky streams.
The blows came in turns, shivering through our thighs, sending waves of pleasure all the way to our shoulders, backs, and the backs of our legs. Every single muscle tensed and reacted to make our cum shoot in strong, forceful bursts.
Our hands kept moving, coaxing out every last drop, as the sperm kept flowing. Our heads leaned heavily on each other, Mats’ musky scent now blending with the damp, sweet smell of cum.
The heat of it mixed with the friction of our skin, leaving us panting, bodies trembling, as the final pulses of pleasure coursed through us.
Then we just stood there for a while. Breathing, sweaty, nude, still leaning on each other, our faces resting on the other’s shoulder. Feeling drowsy.
– Fuuuck, was all Mats could manage.
I nodded, slowly letting go of my dick while absentmindedly brushing my fingers through the hair on Mats’ neck. He shivered and smiled.
– That was gooood, he said in a dark, husky voice. Goddamn, that was good.
– Yeah, it was. It really was.
We both stood there, catching our breath.
– Was it worth the wait?
– Ask me in ten minutes, Mats. I’m… just not really functional at the moment. But my guess is, it was.
I leaned back, stretching my shoulders, and wiped some cum off my hand onto my thigh.
– I’ll taste it next time, OK?
Mats let out a coarse, soft laugh.
– I’ll make sure of that.
We both turned toward the sink to wash our hands. I grabbed some paper to clean up the cum on our bodies, and I’m pretty sure we were both watching each other while we did it. There was something both strange and oddly natural about standing there, naked and close, wiping cum off after what… having sex? Well, some kind of sex, anyway. Or did it count?
– Was this us having sex? I asked.
– I hope it was, Mats replied. It was very much sex to me, at least. Then he looked a bit confused. – What kind of standards do you have if this wasn’t sex?
I laughed.
– I don’t know, I said. I obviously don’t know. But yeah, hell yeah, this was sex.
– And pretty damn good sex, for that matter. I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm like that. He shook his head. – Look at me—I’m still shivering. Legs trembling.
– Well, that’s what happens when you’re doing it with a pro.
– Aaah, that’s right, he said smiling, You’re the pro.
We both started laughing at the memory of just a few minutes ago.
– Well, I am now, I said. This has to count as pretty fucking pro-level.
– It was. It is. You’re the fucking best, Erik. And you let that sink in now, OK? No more “Mats, I don’t trust that you love me” thing. No more “I’m not hot” or anything like that. Right?
I stretched like I’d just woken up and smiled back at him.
– Aaah, OK. I guess I just have to accept the fact that I’m a gorgeous, super sexy mega hunk.
– Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? Super sexy hunk is a good start. The mega can wait until… you know… and there it was again, that mischievous smile of his… the next time.
-To be continued…
Forgot to put it in, but the link to my Substack is: Chris - a Big Dreamer | Substack
Or just click here
Or just click here
Hi Chris!
Please don't create a new thread for every part.
If you should ever post your stories to the GayShortStories or GayStoriesGoneWild subreddits at Reddit, you'll have to do a new post for each chapter, yes.
But here, it's much easier for us to find the story and its updates by having only the one thread to check. And it's easy for us to click through to the end of the thread to find what's new.
Also, if anyone who comes to a story well after it has started should want to go back and catch up (and surely they will!), it's easier for them to do so if the entire story is in one thread.
Now I myself need to go back and catch up ... ;-)
Please don't create a new thread for every part.
If you should ever post your stories to the GayShortStories or GayStoriesGoneWild subreddits at Reddit, you'll have to do a new post for each chapter, yes.
But here, it's much easier for us to find the story and its updates by having only the one thread to check. And it's easy for us to click through to the end of the thread to find what's new.
Also, if anyone who comes to a story well after it has started should want to go back and catch up (and surely they will!), it's easier for them to do so if the entire story is in one thread.
Now I myself need to go back and catch up ... ;-)
Oh, yes! I see some of the changes to Parts Three and Four even here.
(And I notice that you fixed one paragraph that was anatomically impossible unless the god Mats resembled was a Hindu deity with multiple arms.)
As Erik was oh-so-delicately teasing, licking, caressing his way down Mats's body, I couldn't help thinking that neither of them had ever touched a girlfriend so gently and tenderly. Am I right about that?
I'm glad that you moved away from ending Part Four with Erik deciding to lick Mats's asshole (it seemed a bit early for that, like skipping a few steps in a recipe) and towards having them laugh with each other. Laughing together has always been a key part of their long relationship with each other, and having laughter break out -- for both of them -- over a botched blowjob is such a good way to defuse tension and reinforce trust between them.
Now on to Part Five ...
(And I notice that you fixed one paragraph that was anatomically impossible unless the god Mats resembled was a Hindu deity with multiple arms.)
As Erik was oh-so-delicately teasing, licking, caressing his way down Mats's body, I couldn't help thinking that neither of them had ever touched a girlfriend so gently and tenderly. Am I right about that?
I'm glad that you moved away from ending Part Four with Erik deciding to lick Mats's asshole (it seemed a bit early for that, like skipping a few steps in a recipe) and towards having them laugh with each other. Laughing together has always been a key part of their long relationship with each other, and having laughter break out -- for both of them -- over a botched blowjob is such a good way to defuse tension and reinforce trust between them.
Now on to Part Five ...
Thanks for the feedback - much appreciated!
I’ll keep going like this as planned.
Yes, it was far too soon - and that would close too much interesting action for them both. And the relationship with the girls, well, let’s what happens there. Tension comes and goes and…
By the way, why -- out of all the gods in all the pantheons -- do we suppose Erik thought to compare Mats to a dude in a white skirt with a jackal's head?
I mean, does Mats have a long nose or something?
That’s a great question! And I see your pointBy the way, why -- out of all the gods in all the pantheons -- do we suppose Erik thought to compare Mats to a dude in a white skirt with a jackal's head?
I mean, does Mats have a long nose or something?
I should have been more precise - I was aiming to connect him with that strong, powerful, and silent posture that the ancient Egyptians so masterfully captured in their statues of gods and pharaohs. THAT was what I wanted for Erik to sense in that situation. Not the nose 
