The Best Fuck In Texas

The idea of moving to College Station was not to get embroiled with some hunky college student. O.K. so it was a possibility. Everything's a possibility. But that wasn't the plan. I moved because I was bored. I moved because there were two members of the faculty that I'd been corresponding with, independently, for nearly six months after meeting in GayChat. I moved because . . . I got horny.

Evan and Charles didn't even know each other. I found that hilarious. Here were two closeted A and M faculty members who, at least with me, were quickly pretty honest and open after a few brief chat room encounters. I was amazed they hadn't connected. I was even more amazed when both reacted negatively to a suggestion that they meet. I wasn't fishing for a steamy three way sex scene. Not that I'd have bowed out. Hell they both turned me on in their own way.

Evan was the epitome of the tall dark handsome stranger. He had the perfect metabolism that everyone wished for, could eat what he wanted, never put on weight, looked like a fucking model. Actually he had been early in his misspent youth. Now he had distinguished touches of gray at his temples. But, regardless of his looks, Evan was out of shape. He didn't have muscle one. I mean, what else can you assume about a guy who's huffing and puffing and has to stop for a nap after just fifteen minutes of wild ass humping.

With Charles you weren't captivated by looks. Not until you spent some time with him and suddenly discovered that what seemed plain and drab upon first meeting had become somehow appealing. He had a sparkle in his eyes when he was into a discussion. His mind was fertile and fun to engage. His writing was both witty and quite introspective. And, although he appeared a little slovenly, that man was fit. He worked out three times a week. Beneath what appeared to be flab where steel cords. I know. He could throw me over his shoulder, mount the stairs to the master bedroom in his townhouse, engage in hours of the most physical sexual gymnastics and not even break a sweat or start breathing hard.

Now with those two to keep me entertained why did I get involved with Peter? Because he asked. Is there a better reason? Evan was involved that weekend with a family event. Charles had left Wednesday for a seminar and wasn't due back for a week. What's a guy to do? I sat down Saturday afternoon and signed into one of the gay chat rooms. My intent was for some diversion, maybe a little cyber sex. Sometime during the second hour a new guy joined in using the id of TXaggie. To me that had only one possibility.

He was extremely reluctant to chat even when I told him I fit the profile of his initial 'looking for a mature stud for hot chat' message. When we had established that we were both in College Station his major concern was determining if I was in any way tied to A and M. That hurdle out of the way he asked if I'd mind if we got out of the chat room and talked on the phone. Something about his reticence and yet willingness to continue intrigued me. He'd admitted he was a twenty four year old graduate student, but not much more.

Over the phone we exchanged more personal information including those all important statistics and the mandatory declaration of sexual preferences. He jumped right to it asking if he could come visit me. I was curious and asked if he really wanted to get together with a guy old enough to be his father.

"That's my hang up. I wouldn't feel comfortable with a guy around my age or younger. I'll tell you all about it if you let me come out to your place."

I'm a cautious animal. There's a combination gas station convenience store just two blocks away. I told him to meet me there. Hell, how did I know if he was for real or just a front for a crew of campus gay bashers. I figured I could see if it was just one guy in the car and make a decision about taking him home or getting the hell out of there from the parking lot. When he pulled in beside me I let out a sigh of relief and then smiled. This kid was a looker. Why he was out trolling for aged beef with that face needed explaining.

Turned out Peter was bi. Had a girl friend and a very fulfilling sexual life with her. But, ever so often he gets the itch. He'd been seduced by his boss when he was eighteen. Working as the mail boy gofer for an Insurance Agency he'd ended up one evening working late and accepting dinner and a few beers from his boss. Came out that the boss was bi and on his own that night, kept plying him with beer and then raped his young employee. The thing was, after it was all over Peter admitted to himself, that he had been turned on by what happened. The next time he was the one that made the advances. He told me he ended up getting his ass pounded on the walnut desk in his boss' office. That was the end of it until his Sophomore year at A and M.

Peter didn't give me any details just said he connected with an older guy twice that year. And now, me. I was a little skeptical about his story. But the more we talked the more believable it became. He wasn't like the typical ultra straight, usually macho, hiding gay curiosity behind bisexuality young man I'd run into. I liked him. As we talked, he snuggling beside me as if he belonged there.

"You disappointed you asked me out here?"

"Hell, no. You are a prize I'm glad I've met." I was hugging him close and stroking him. "How about you. You disappointed with what you found when you got here?"

He reached up and ran his fingers across my beard and mustache. With a smile he shook his head. The hand that had touched my face dropped to rest in my lap. It lay still for only a moment. Quickly Peter checked that what he had came for was there. His fingers cupped my groin. They found me fully aroused but confined.

I started unbuttoning Peter's shirt. He stood, moved in front of me and silently stripped. Hot damn. The body was just as fine as that face. I raced to get out of my clothes. Peter helped. When four hands jerked my pants down and off he kneeled down and without any preamble scarfed my cock into his mouth. He kept looking up at me. Those puppy eyes and that hungry mouth were almost too much. His hands were all over me as he sucked and licked. I caught the question he muttered. Lifting his head from my lap I bend down and kissed him.

"Shit yes, you're doing it right. You're doing find. I love it." I looked into those soft brown eyes. Shifting my hands from the sides of his face I pressed him back down. "Please. Please continue, baby," I urged.

This kid had a lot of need that had built up, whether it was actually years, or less. He let my cock glide between his hard sucking lips working his tongue like a pro. It was teasing and sensual everywhere. My hands held his head firmly as I began hunching. That mouth was too hot and wet. Peter broke loose.

With a stream of saliva dripping from the left side of his mouth he swallowed and then spoke. "I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me." His eyes, the tone of his voice both were pleading. It was as if he was afraid I might not be interested. His hands rested lightly on my thighs.

"There's the bed, baby. Let's use it."

I took a hand and led him across the room. Just to reassure him, and because it was a temptation not easy to pass, I goosed him twice during the trip. Both times he let out a grunt and wiggled that ass. This kid was hot to be plowed. Real, real horny and hot. That was confirmed in spades when he crawled to the middle of the bed, lay back, spread those legs, grabbed his inner thighs and made a present of his ass.

I'd left out on the bedside table everything needed. He watched, twitching that ass and letting out soft urgent moans. It got louder when I wiped a lube covered finger in his crack. When I moved in close and the tip of that meat filled condom touched him he let out a breathy 'Ahhhh'.

My coated cock head pressed hard on his doorway for just an instant. He squirmed against me. His ass lips seemed to just open and snap shut on that bulbous intrusion. I was captured. A pulsing grip sent wild sensations shooting down my dick shaft into my gut.

"Fuck. Oh, Fuck. Feels good. Fuck, that feels great." He was smiling at me. Reaching down he gripped my buttocks and tugged. He wanted more and he wanted it right then.

I gave one hard push and a loud 'Oh, Shit' of my own. That hot young ass hole gobbled me whole and then started pulsing along every inch of my throbbing cock.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?"

He just grinned, gave me another squeeze and then sighed.

"Kid, you have got a damn talented ass. Fantastic. Fan - fucking - tastic."

My cock was being milked, treated to sensations that had me squirming and trembling. That action from Peter's ass also made it impossible to hold still. I went wild, fucking, fucking, pounding that ass, making him whine and toss his head. Every time I stopped, gasping for breath, he'd grin and turn loose those talented muscles. No way could I lay still with that sucking, squeezing ass loving my cock.

"Fuck you, you ass hole," I grunted when it happened the third time.

He winked. "You better, pops. That's what I want. You're . . . Aw, Fuck . . . doing . . . great. Shit . . . OH, SHIT . . . PLOW ME!"

I was humping that ass with every part of me. Thrashing, shifting to get deeper, turned into a wild man by the combination of his words and that gripping ass. The damn bed was rocking, thumping against the wall with every thrust. It became an animalistic symphony: bang, ug, ahh, bang, ug, ahh. Peter was breathing hard, his mouth agape. As I continued fucking, humping his ass harder and faster he started mumbling with each thrust.

"Do it . . . do it . . . do it . . . do it." His head was jerking back and forth in rhythm with his cry that accented every time our sweat slicked bodies smacked together. I'd switched to auto pilot. Porking that ass with a steady beat, sliding in, twirling my hips as I pulled back. Letting the sensations build inside him, inside me. Reaching and rolling. Grunting and groaning. Smack . . . UG! . . . "Do it!" . . . Smack . . . HH! . . . "Do it!"

I let out a yelp when the smoldering fire within exploded. My balls were crushed by an iron vice. They released the pent up flood that had been building. It raced through the tunnel within my tingling cock swelling it. The skin was stretched beyond its limits. It split and burned. I could feel the pumping flow of cum. It filled the rubber. My thrusting continued. Peter's chute holding tight squished the hot juices. My cock was on fire.

My grunting "Fuck you" repeated with each spurt grew softer and faded to a low moan. Peter had screeched when I slammed in and started ejaculating. His high pitched "Yeeeeeees" modulated down and ended in a heavy breathing sibilant "ssss".

His legs slid down my sides and straightened as I collapsed in his arms. We snuggled, gasping, lips and tongues softly teasing. I rolled us to lie side by side, holding him close. He was trembling and then tears began to flow. I hugged him close, stroking gently.

"Thanks," he whispered. "I can't explain why but I needed that, bad. And I hate that. Sorry. You were great. Thanks."

I figured it was better to just comfort him physically. What was I suppose to say? He shook his head, lifted up over me and rolled out of bed. Back in the living room, dressing, he told me he'd call. It was three months later. His voice had that same tentative, unsure timbre. Could he come out? I fixed dinner this time.

What was amazing to me through every encounter with Peter was that he never got a hard on. That kid wanted to suck dick and be fucked in the worst way. Yet his cock didn't react to any of the stimuli. We talked about it. Seems he never has problems with his girl friend. Guess it's a mental thing. Not my field. And anyway who gives a shit. He's the best fuck in Texas.