stories.xnxx.com


Introduction:

This is the second story, based on one of my favorite memories of a weekend I spent at Brock's house. This is the second story and follows "An Unexpected Lover," so if you havent read that one, you probably should first just so you get the back story and know who I am and who Brock is, so you aren't lost. But then again you could just read this one and be fine haha. Hope you enjoy it!
For those of you that don't know, my name is Cameron. I managed to somehow fall inlove with this guy Brock completely unexpectedly. Thats another story, so check it out. For those of you following along, here another.




After the first night together, Brock and I decided to slow things down. It wasn’t that we weren’t into each other, and believe me, we did get “into each other” quite often in the following months, if you know what I mean. Simply put; however, we decided we wanted a relationship built on more than just sex, regardless of how amazing the other was in bed.

Instead of daily orgasms, we waited about a week or so between anything intimate. The good thing was that this made things highly explosive, the bad…we were short fuse atomic bombs. My favorite memory comes a few weeks after we first slept together.

By now winter is starting to make its presence known. While there is no snow, it is very cold, at least to us. Brock’s parents were out of town for the weekend and left him home alone. Since I live here for college and he is a local, we decided it would be better to stay at his place. Besides, it was a LOT bigger than my small second floor cube. And it had a fireplace, so I mean romantic right?!

Here’s what happened:

My handsome blue eyed stud was standing barefoot in the kitchen attempting to cook some fancy Italian dinner when I walked into the unlocked home. I closed the heavy wooden door to block out a sudden gust of wind, took off my coat, and grinned as he stuck his head around the doorway with a huge grin. “Well helloooo to you there Mr. Sexy!” he said with a wink as I inhaled the smell of fresh spices and…well something burning.

“Something’s smokin’” I said with a laugh as I took a seat on top of the granite countertop, swinging my legs back and forth as I shook my head and smiled.

“You mean someone right?” he said playfully as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

I cleared my throat and nodded towards the stove, “Yeah sure Mr. Hot stuff. You’re definitely smokin’. Now seriously, blackened is one thing, burnt it another. Need help?” I can’t help but love the kid. I mean, he does way too much to try and be romantic for me. It’s really cute. I gotta admit though, harassing him is a lot of fun too.

His eyes get really big and he covers his mouth. Before I have time to come to the rescue, he has managed to save a few pieces of garlic bread and kill the heat on the pasta before it boils over. I really don’t know why, but the sheepish grin and the way those eyes sparkle when he’s embarrassed…gah I melt. Drool.

Now that dinner is salvaged, we talk about school and work and family as I cut some onions and he prepares the drinks. His shirt is still, thankfully, unbuttoned past his chest, so I enjoy the view when he’s preoccupied with whatever it is he does while “cooking.”

The house is cool, so we carry the dinner into the large Great Room in front of the massive stone fireplace. An oak fire burns slowly, small crackling sounds escaping occasionally and sending little fairies of light into the tall chimney.

I swirl a large bite of pasta around my fork and attempt to feed him, you know, trying to be romantic and all. As my luck would have it, a bit of sauce falls on his chest. Being a tease, I lean forward, wink, and then lick it off his skin as he watches in shock. I sit back up with a grin and we laugh, attempting to make a romantic meal as romantic as two very silly, very playful, and very much in love guys can.

The light outside quickly fades, as does the massive piles of food on our plates, till it none is left. Thankfully, He managed to remember that garlic onions and kissing are not great together, so we both practice sucking on a mint. (At least I did. I think he just straight up ate it. He doesn’t follow the seduction thing very well sometimes…anyhow…)

Shortly after dark, Brock clears the dishes and returns with a large fuzzy blanket. We curl up by the fire in the dimly lit room on the dark wood floor. It is surprisingly comfortable, though I could sleep on a rock with this teddy bear beside me. We lay on our side, watching the wood slowly burn, as I caress his chest with my hand. He tilts his head back and we kiss. His lips, though its winter, are still as soft as ever.

He reaches back and gently brushes my leg. His head rests on my arm, and I give it another kiss. His hair smells sweet. My fingers twirl a long piece of blonde hair as my other hand begins to explore down his stomach ever so slowly.

Time ticks by slowly, the logs adjust, sending a swirl of fireflies into the dark space above, and he slowly sits up. I do as well, and we begin to kiss. Our tongues slowly caressing the others, lost in the romantic peace of the night. I lift my arms and soon find myself shirtless, unbuttoning my dark jeans. Once they are loose, I begin to unsnap, slowly, each button on his shirt until it slips off his shoulder. I kiss it. So soft. So warm.

Our hands explore the others body as we kiss, both breathless, until we are on our knees. The jeans we both wear are tossed onto the large leather chair behind us as we stretch out a blanket beneath us. I wrap my hand behind his back and gently lay him back onto the floor, our lips only parting for breath, skin pressed tightly together. His arms wrap around me; his legs part so mine can slide between.

I prop myself on my elbows as I kiss him, then run a finger down his stomach, tickling him. He smiles between kisses, and we pause to both giggle. Ever so delicately, I slowly remove his silk boxers, as he slides his hand under mine. Our bodies, now free, then touch.

The warm smooth feel of manhood pressed into mine begins to excite me. I breathe deeper as I begin to grow harder and harder. With his left hand, Brock covers us from the cold with a warm quilt. We are lost under this warm, steamy tent. With his right hand, he begins to massage our grinding crotches. I lift my head and exhale deeply as my hips push into his large, throbbing crotch.

Soon, it’s too warm, so our heads free themselves from the quilt. Beneath, though, we pulse like the embers in the fire. His legs spread and soon my cock finds its hole. I begin to press slowly. The head soon slips in and he moans. I grunt at the tight warm feel as I jam my tongue between his lips. He sucks a little, and I begin to rock back and forth, slowly working deeper and deeper.

My stomach rubs his diamond hard cock; each vein rubs against my abs. My balls, so warm, hang freely and soon begin to slap against his tight butt. Having found the secret to making him scream in pleasure, I begin to adjust so I hit all the right spots. Within minutes, he screams in pleasure, begging for more, as my hips quickly move forwards and back. His cock twitches with each massive pulse of blood, and I begin to fear that both of ours may literally explode.

My testicles tighten, pulling deep inside me. Brock begins to scream Cameron, my name, repeatedly as he clenches down on my cock. A jet of sticky white fluid soon shoots between our bodies, splattering on his chin as our tongues continue to battle. His hole clamps down on my already sensitive cock, and I launch a missile of cum seemingly straight to his brain. His eyes roll back as he moans, another shot splattering on his chest.

I press my body into his as I shoot again, and soon a pool of cum forms at our waist. My cock begins to shrink, and with a soft *pop* it slips out, exhausted. We spent the night there, collapsed on the floor, until we woke at noon.

We shower, somehow managing to get all the dried cum off the other, though the tongue sure seems to help. Once the hot water was gone, we stepped out and resumed our day as normal friends. After washing the very messy blanket, of course. When night came, however, we made sure it was as passionate as the last. That weekend was one of the best, though I remember best the two nights cuddled on the floor, passionately making love until we fell asleep in the other’s arms.

The next night was his turn to change things up, though I suppose I will let him tell that story another time. That one or his favorite when I somehow managed to catch a shot of cum while we were jerking one night at least. Maybe both.



I hope you enjoyed, this one was a lot of fun to write, though it really wasn’t that much. As always, please please comment with any thoughts, critical or good. It’s very helpful to me as a writer to know what you did or did not enjoy. Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed telling it.
1 comments

anonymous readerReport

2013-01-12 18:37:14
I loved the story. Please write more. Maybe more romantic scenes!

SUBMIT A COMMENT
You are not logged in.
Characters count: