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He did stay that night, and the three nights after that. He left the house only to work, I left it only to get more groceries and lay in supplies of beer and wine. We were naked most of the time, and I lost count of how many times we had sex. A few times I topped him, but mostly he topped me, although we often just sucked or jacked each other. We did it in the bed, in the shower, on the floor in front of the fire. Once we grabbed sleeping bags and stole out of the house naked — it was cold but sunny — laid the bags together and sucked each other off. Another time when I got home from the store he met me at the door naked, cock already hard, yanked my pants down, bent me over the back of the couch and fucked me standing up. On Friday night we went to the bar in town, got happy but not shit-faced, and spent the night at his place, a small house not far from the docks. It was clean and neat but cramped in comparison to mine, so on Saturday we went back out to my house in the woods. This time he brought several changes of clothes, a couple of books and a toothbrush, and I knew we had passed a certain point in our relationship. isvecbahis A couple more weeks passed, and our sexual explorations began to go further. One day he came back from town with several short lengths of rope and said, “Tie me up.” I had never done anything like this before, but by this point in our explorations I was ready for just about anything. I led him into the bedroom, told him to strip and lie down on the bed. I bound his wrists to the bedposts on either side and undressed myself. I parted his legs and lifted them up so I could get at his ass. I dove in and started eating him out, and soon had him writhing in pleasure. When he was good and wet and loose I put my cock against his hole, and teased him with the tip until he begged me to fuck him. With one long thrust I slid my cock in as far as it would go, and there was no doubt that he felt far more pleasure than pain. I pushed his thighs up against his chest and fucked him in long, steady strokes, until I shot my load with a shout of my own. He still had not come but his cock was leaking a steady stream, and he pleaded with me to make him come isveçbahis giriş . But I had the advantage, and wasn’t going to give it up. I took two more pieces of rope, tied his ankles to the lower bedposts, leaving just enough play for his legs to spread apart, and slid three fingers into his ass, which was dripping with my cum. Not roughly, but firmly, I started massaging his prostate, and soon had him near tears with excitement. When he was on the very verge of coming I took my fingers out. “Fucker!” he shouted. “DO IT.” I reached in the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of K-Y and put a big glob of it in my hole. Then I straddled his torso, took hold of his cock and lowered myself onto it in one long, slow motion. He tried to thrust into me from below, but he was tied too tightly to gain the needed leverage. I decided it was time to gratify his wish; I started riding the pony, but we hadn’t gone one furlong before he shot into me, gasping and sobbing with release. Fully five minutes passed before his cock stopped twitching in my ass. “Fucker,” he said contentedly. “Asshole. Dickhead. I love you.” “I love isveçbahis yeni giriş you, too,” I said. I meant it. So did he. *** A few nights later we were at the bar, deep in conversation, when I sensed someone standing next to me. I looked up and saw two women, one of whom was looking at me intently. “This guy look familiar?” she asked her friend. “Hard to tell with his clothes on,” the other said. Oh, no, I thought. I looked at the women, then at Steve. Amusement danced in his eyes. “You all know each other?” he asked. “We saw him once, in a cove down the coast a little,” the first woman said. “He didn’t look his best.” The other one laughed, a delightful, ringing laugh. “Have a seat,” Steve said, sliding over to make room for one of them. “I’d like to hear more about this.” The first woman, blond, green-eyed, slim but rounded in the right places, sat down next to Steve. The other one, taller, brunette and dark-eyed, more voluptuous — the one who had commented on my shortcomings that day in the cove — leaned one hip against my shoulder and pushed me aside. “Thanks for making room,” she said, giving me a sardonic look. “A perfect gentleman.” The blond one — Lisa, as it turned out — told Steve the story: They had been hiking along the coast outside of town when they stopped to rest on a rock overlooking the water.