Chapter Twenty-Two
It was a chilly ride on the Mass Pike driving back to Weston at sixty-five miles per hour, Willie insisting on leaving the top down. Once we were off the Mass Pike, moving much slower, it was a lovely summer night. I had to shake my head and smile as were driving to Willie's mansion because the driveway was so ridiculously long.
Willie's mother was in Scotland sightseeing with her sister, and his father was in New York City doing business, but Willie wasn't on his own. In the vast house there is a live-in chef, Ruman Diezel, Mr. Worthington's assistant, Paul Windell, and his wife, Martha. They live here, too. Mrs. Windell supervises the housekeeping. Mr. and Mrs. Windell were in charge of the mansion, and the owners, Willie's parents, occasionally spend a few days here. Willie does too when he's not at boarding school.
Theoretically, Mr. and Mrs. Wildell were in charge of Willie as his guardians, but actually, he comes and goes as he pleases. Willie's allowance was two hundred dollars a week, but that was pocket money. He has an American Express card for most things he buys. Parking the car in the fourth garage bay, Willie held my hand, walking to the house, and inside we kissed and fondled one another until I was again on the verge of cuming in my pants. I loved making out with Willie from the start. When we had dueling boners in our pants, he grinned and asked, "Whatever should we do now, Dylan?" I clung to him, gasping, "Fuck me, Willie."
He murmured, "Yes, that's a good idea. I'll do you hard and hot," and he held me tightly to his body; his boner felt so long, poking sideways in his pants. He held my hand again when we went upstairs to his room, where Willie breathlessly gasped, "I'm so aroused by you, Dylan. Let's get undressed quickly!" I was pretty much breathless myself as we got out of our clothes in record time, and Willie lapsed back into copying his roommate Larry, by demanding, "Get down on your knees and suck my cock. Do it over there," pointing to a thick Oriental throw rug right next to the bed.
I sighed, then said, "Don't start that bossy shit with me, Willie," and he said, "Please, Dylan, just do it." Well, now it was half an order and the other half a plea, so I got down on my knees and sucked his cock, which is something I like doing very much, anyway. I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to suck on a teenager's youthful, healthy-looking penis. Willie had a very boyish smell that I've noticed on a few other boys, not that I've had a lot of erect penises in my mouth or had the opportunity to be intimate enough to smell many young teens. Still, I'll notice a guy's scent, if he has one.
Sucking and lapping just the head of a guy's cock is my favorite part of blowing a guy. I use plenty of saliva so the swollen head slides around my lips, and my tongue slips over it quickly, and then the tip of my tongue pokes the pee slit for ten to fifteen seconds to get it gaping open. Willie's huffing and puffing bursts of air, his fingers through my hair. In my minimal experience, I feel that Carl has the best cock head I've sucked. His dick is shortish, but the cock head is firm and large. Chubby's penis is like that, too. I've only sucked Chubby's cock's head in my dreams, though.
Knowing I could handle it, I pushed my head forward with my throat relaxed, and Willie's boner slid tightly down my throat, my nose buried in his pubic bush. I pulled my head back until the head of his cock was at my lips and then swallowed his boner again. Willie gasped and went up on his toes, groaned, moaned, and blew long exhales through his lips, creating that steamed heat sound. It's so sexy-hot!
Keeping his boner in my throat, I made swallowing motions on his cock and felt the head expand. Willie grunted, "No, I'm going to cum," and he stepped back till his cock slipped out of my mouth. I gagged and a string of saliva and precum connected the head of his cock to my tongue. Willie turned away, breaking the strand, and hurried into his bathroom, where I heard water splashing in the sink. Getting up, my boner lulling to the side, I went over and watched Willie running cold water on the head of his hard cock. The very thought of doing that to myself made me shudder and squeeze my softening dick.
"I want to fuck you so bad, Dylan, and I almost blew my load down your throat. Martin's the only other person who ever sucked me off, and it didn't feel nearly as hot as when you just did it. Holy shit!"
I mutter, "Who is Martin?" then remembered the two guys we left an hour ago, and added, "Never mind. I remember him."
Jesus Christ, we just left Martin, but I get discombobulated doing sex with Willie. He ignored my question anyway, and said, "Wow, baby, the deep-throating took me by surprise. Don't get me wrong, it felt awesome, but right now, I want to fuck your boy pussy." I nodded with half a smile because the talk of fucking had him panting again, and almost causing Willie to hyperventilate like he did at his mother's party. Watching this naked teenager drying his boner, I felt lucky because he was so attractive; his slim, taut, almost hairless body was flawless, and his long cock... oh, man!
I force myself to look away because it's hard not to stare at his pretty seven-plus-inch boner when it was almost sticking straight out from his sparse pubes. It wasn't a boner for long, though. The cold water got it soft, but it still looked cool. Seven inches of teen cock looks great, even soft. When mine is hard and erect, it barely reaches six inches and looks shorter than that when next to Willie's.
Taking deliberate deep breaths, Willie says, "Get in my bed, on your back." The bed was made this time, so I pulled back the covers. The purple sheets from last week had been replaced with black silk ones. They looked very sexy and were cool to the touch. Getting under the covers, I got comfortably on my back with my head on Willie's pillow. He pushed a button, and the lights went down low as music from several speakers around his room came on strong. Willie says, "I like this song!"
I recognized it right away. Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." This rendition of that song was by K D Lang, and her powerful voice filled the room, and with the orchestra behind her, it sent chills through me. Without commenting about the music, which was an unusual choice for a teenager, Willie got under the covers and climbed on top of me, wrapping his arms around my neck. His breathing was slightly labored at first but calmed down as he again began his unbelievably hot style of making out with a lot of tongue, lips, and saliva. He sucked and kissed all around my mouth, face, and neck. He'd concentrate on one spot for thirty seconds until I was squirming with pleasure.
His smell, the feel of his skinny body and smooth skin, and that music filling my head, was so sexual I had chills. My fingers ran through his silly flattop hair, so soft and silky. And then another rendition of "Hallelujah' played as Willie and I kissed and moaned, our dicks again as hard as wood. Our hands caressed one another as our lips never parted. In the background, more renditions of the same song played. I looked later and discovered the artist, most I'd never heard of, were Bon Jovi, John Cale, and others I couldn't even pronounce the names. Right now, I'm gasping for oxygen and groveling under Willie's body, anxious to feel him inside me.
Willie was relentless, as if he were a starving animal intent on devouring me. He humped his hips as we made out as his knees, little by little, pushed my ass up off the mattress. After a bit, I pulled my feet forward and then raised my knees, and he inched his knee against my buttocks, I spread my knees, creating an open invitation for Willie to fuck me. The powerful music echoed all around us, his long boner lying hard on top of my throbbing, dripping erection, the top of my swollen cock's head reaching only to the bottom of Willie's boner's swollen, dripping head. I gasped for air, hardly believing how hot and sensual it was, my submissive body position begging him to mount me.
He lifted his head, sweat on his forehead, a pinkish flush to his face, and he grunted, barely above the music, "You ready for it, Dylan?" All I could do was nod. My face was sweaty and wet with Willie's spit. It added to the feeling of being slippery and slimy and ready to be dominated by Willie's long erection. He moved back slightly, and I felt his wet cock head at my anus. Then, without hesitating, he humped it inside me hard without lube except precum. It hurt, but I didn't care; I sang out with the song, looking at Willie through slits in my eyelids, I saw his glazed eyes, his mouth open, panting little burst of air, a small bubble of spit at the corner of his mouth.
Willie's hard boner went inside me two inches with that first thrust, and a calmer look came over him, and then another thrust of his hips sent three more inches of boner up my rectum. We both moaned, "Ahh, ooh..." Then a steady push of the remaining two-plus inches of boner slid tightly up my ass with Willie's eyes wide open now, and then he bent his head back so much I saw his Adam's apple protrude. Huh, that was the first time I'd noticed his Adam's apple. His head came back with a slight smile on his lips as he withdrew almost his entire cock, and I thought I was going to cum right then. It felt so good, but I didn't cum.
Another "Hallelujah" began, along with two quick hip thrusts driving his cock back and forth inside me, the pain lessening with each thrust. He began five-inch thrusting, and now the pleasure overtook the discomfort, pleasure was pouring off my prostate gland, and his fat, fast-moving iron rod sensitized my anus, and it was so good! He drove his cock inside me again, and I was limp under him, feeling wholly dominated by Willie and his boner. Dominated most wonderfully, pleasure covering my body with every trip Willie's boner made up my ass. My cock was as hard as Willie's, the head of it poking his belly with every thrust he made. .
His magnificent boner insisted I open up for it, and now Willie's doing whole seven-inch penetrations, and I'm moaning, "Willie, Willie, fuck me, fuck me," the sound of music faded under the force of Willie's fucking. He forcefully pushed my knees down against the mattress on either side of me, my feet in the air, and fucked me like I've never been fucked before. Hallelujah, over and over. My eyes were tightly closed as I concentrated on the incredible sensations in my rectum, barely hearing the music now. My nuts were churning cum, my cock was twitching, and then that unmistakable feeling of impending climax. I held my breath, then squealed, contracting every muscle in my body as cum shot out of my boner to splat on Willie's belly button, as worlds collided in my head.
As a billion points of light and pleasure streaked over me, I shudder and Willie fucked me faster, and my second cum shot hit his chest just as Willie emptied his nuts up inside my bowels. It was so squishy inside me that Willie's boner slipped out of me twice. The first time it slipped out, he was firing some creamy cum, and it ended up on my scrotum. I was stroking my cock with every hump of Willie's cock up my ass, fabulous, fabulous, hallelujah!
When Willie fumbled his boner back inside me, it felt so good I moaned, "Ahhhhh. Yeah..." and he pumped my asshole for a couple more minutes. He stopped thrusting, exhausted, leaving his cock inside me; him lying on me, squishing cum between us as he quietly moaned and squirmed on top of me. I could feel his heart pounding just as hard and fast as mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I hugged him against me for all I was worth. I wrapped my legs on top of his, and he got his arms around my arms. We were a tight bundle of teenage boys; from a glance, someone would have trouble deciding whose body part belonged to whom. We were wet with cum, spit, and sweat and as tight together as a ball of twine, and just like that, the music was over, our ragged breathing the only sound.
Our bodies slid against one another to get tighter together, cum squeezed out of my ass around his semi-hard cock. Willie squirmed his knees up to my buttocks, and I rearranged my legs to get him in a scissor-hold around his back. We tightened everything up, and I could feel his cock slide up inside me another inch. I took quick breaths and hugged him tighter. Willie's lips against my ear, "Tell me you love me, Dylan." I said, "I love you, Willie," he kissed my ear, then tongued it until I thought I'd faint from the sensations, saliva dripping from my ear onto my neck.
I didn't believe I was in love with him, but I think I loved him as a gay friend who I had sex with. Giving up on my ear, Willie very quietly said, in a speculative manner, "Hmm, I think I fell a little bit in love with you when our tops, Carl and Larry, were fucking us at Carl's, and you and I held hands while we got fucked." I mumbled, "Oh, uh-huh." His cock was getting harder now, and he began very short thrusts with his hips with a burst of warm, moist air from his mouth on my neck with each thrust of his cock. It wasn't long before he was fully boned again. He mumbled, "Oh my God, this feels so good," and I loosened my legs just a little so he could start fucking me again with longer thrusts.
Shortly, with sweat dripping off his forehead, he was again doing full seven-inch humps in and out of my ass. He broke free of my arms to lift me and push my knees down against my sides again and fucked me steadily for ten or twelve minutes, with both of us going, "Ah, oh," with every thrust in and every pull out. Willie finally groaned, "I'm going to cum again." I think we both splattered a spurt of cum about the same time. He was breathing hard when he laid back down on my sweaty body, his cock inside me. We were silent except for our raspy breathing.
We lay together in a ball for ten minutes or so, and then we both had to pee. When Willie reluctantly pulled out of me, I felt so empty back there, and so wet back there, too. His cum, drooled down from my asshole to join the earlier drools that had dried on the inside of my thighs. With a deep breath, I followed Willie out of bed and into the bathroom. After peeing, we climbed back into bed. Willie pulled the covers over us, and we quietly talked about our lovemaking, as Willie called it. That was okay with me. Then, I was truthful when I told him it was the most sexually satisfying fuck I'd ever had with anyone and that, furthermore, sex with him was thrilling to me.
Willie asked, "Thrilling, huh? You're glad I made you my boyfriend, then, right?" That sounds like a pompous, braggadocio thing for him to say, but the way Willie said it was sweet. It's hard to explain, but with Willie, his words often don't match the emphasis he puts on them. I said, "Oh yeah, Willie! Being your boyfriend rocks!" He asks, "How about the sex?" I'm like, "I already told you that you're the best." He grinned, "Yeah, but I liked hearing it."
This is how I feel, and it is how you should feel after sex. Happy, sexually satisfied, and grateful to be with the one you're with.
We lay on our backs, our sides touching, and Willie's arm under my neck. Occasionally, he'd roll over on his side and nuzzle the side of his face against mine. So far, I haven't even come close to tiring of cuddling with Willie, and I'm not tired of his natural scent, either. I press my nose against his neck to inhale his unique smell. We lay together talking about things that happened earlier in the night, or as Willie puts it, earlier on our date. I was fascinated that he'd put together that CD of Hallelujah renditions. The song isn't teen material, as I said, but it was so like Willie to adopt that kind of unique song as his private mood enhancer for sex. Willie is an original teen who never ceases to amaze me.
He murmurs, "You're my boyfriend, and you'll need to find a way to get away during the week to see me." He still slips into that absurd dominant mannerism that doesn't sound believable coming from him. He's following his roommate, Larry's, example. I want to keep Willie from acting like his roommate, but without hurting his feelings. I explained my family situation, describing how close Chubby and I are and how we do almost everything together. I can't let Chubby down and leave him alone for dinner. I explained that if I told Chubby, I was hanging with a new friend, he'd assume he was invited to hang out with you, too.
After a further discussion, it came down to this: I can't tell my family I'm going on a date with my boyfriend because they don't know I'm gay, and I can't say I'm going to hang out with my new bud named Willie, because Chubby will want to come too, which means no sex for Willie and me. Willie listened with a sympathetic expression on his face. I was running out of ways to say the same thing. Finally, he took an exasperated breath, held up both hands, and said, "Okay, enough, Dylan! I can see it won't be simple for you, but I want you to do it anyway. We'll talk tomorrow about me picking you up on Tuesday at seven-thirty for our next date. You figure out what to tell everyone. I need to put my foot down with this, Dylan. I'm sorry to be firm about it, but it's necessary".
Whoa, that was not expected! I took a deep breath and surprised myself by saying, "Okay, Willie, I will. Somehow, I'll come up with something to explain why I needed to go someplace Tuesday night." Willie goes, "Yes, that's my boy, and you may as well set it up for every Tuesday night, Dylan. Saturday and Tuesday will be our date nights. Sorry to have to get so stern with you, but I think it's up to me to take the lead here. I know what's best for us".
Getting pissed off at his attitude, I was about to lose it and blurt out something I'd probably be sorry I said, but he leaned in and murmured, "Don't pout," and put his lips on my mouth. I'd missed my opportunity to protest because we were off to the races making out again, and I love that. He broke the long kiss, pushed the palm of his hand up my forehead, flattening my short bangs, quietly saying, "You can't wait for Carl to give you a haircut. That might be a month from now. I'll take you to my hairstylist. I know I seem bossy, baby, but one of us needs to take charge, and I'm more experienced. Are we good with Tuesday being our regular date night during the week?"
I didn't want to fight because this was the greatest night for sex I'd ever dreamed of having, and I didn't want it to end badly; plus, he sort of hypnotized me. I nod, "Yes, Willie," and he asks, "And you'll be coming with me from now on for your haircuts, right?" I nodded again, and he asked, "On my schedule, right?" "Yes, Willie."
He kissed me and murmured, "Okay, good. Now, move your head to the side. I want to give you my signature hickey." I'm uncertain when I fell into this, and I can't describe how much I liked it. I'm referring to this luscious submissive trance he somehow put me in, but I moved my head as he wanted and fell asleep with him sucking and licking a spot on my neck. First Carl, and now my true boyfriend is giving me a hickey; a mark like cowboy's brand on cattle so everyone will know who they belong to.
I fell asleep and he woke me around one in the morning. The first thing I noticed was that I was not at home. I never expected to spend the night here. Willie murmured, "Why don't you spend the night with me?" He woke me up to ask me that. I'm flustered, "Spend the night? My Mom would call the cops about her missing son. I'll spend the night when it's planned. Jesus, I've got dried cum all over me, and..."
Willie says, "Take it easy! Get up, and we'll take a five-minute shower, and then I'll drive you home. Don't panic, Dylan. Be calm, like me." I mutter, "Uh-huh, let's do it."
The shower water stung my new hickey that Willie had really done a number on. He may be too much for me to handle. We drove to my house with the BMW's top up, and when we got there, Willie made out with me in the car for ten minutes before I could convince him I was too tired for anymore. I still felt sexually fulfilled to overflowing, but that boy apparently had an insatiable sex drive.
Before letting go of me, he said, "You're not mad at me for being stern with you earlier tonight, are you? Please say you're not. I only do it because we need to be together more than one night a week. You can understand that, can't you, Dylan? Come closer," and instead of letting me answer, he kissed me some more. Again, I didn't want to argue and spoil the evening, and I liked him so much that I didn't want to hurt his feelings either. When I got the chance, I said, "I can't be mad at you, Willie; you're my boyfriend."
One more sloppy kiss on my lips and he said, "I love you, but I won't walk you to the door tonight because it's too late for that. Don't worry, I'll call you," and that was the end of our date. In my bed by two in the morning, I slept like a baby. The next morning, Chubby had to drag me out of bed so we could cook our special Sunday morning breakfast for our Moms.
To be continued...
