No Barriers

I slip in ever so slowly, wanting to memorialize this moment in my mind.

My raw precome-saturated cockhead breaches Justin's raw hole opened by my spit and tongue and is quickly sucked inside and grasped by his quivering, suctioning gloryhole. I can feel my heartbeat throbbing in my cock and his heartbeat pulsating in his hole. Our bodies are instantly coated with sweat and the unique raunchy scent of US permeates the air.

FUCK! I think I'm gonna lose it before I even get all the way inside him raw. INSIDE. JUSTIN. RAW. Fuck, this is really happening and I'm losing control already.

The bossy bottom blond demon beneath me doesn't give a shit about my dilemma. The instant he feels my raw penetration, Justin starts clenching his ass muscles and clicking his teeth together and snarling and thrashing wildly and painfully digging his fingers into my hair and neck and shoulders and biceps and back and ass and trying to pull me further inside him with his strong, shapely furry legs.

It's still a wonderment to me that Justin has a hairless torso and back and ass and yet thick hair on his head and silky blond fur on his arms and legs. The peach fuzz that once graced his sublime face has hardened into sharp needle points which now abrade my skin and inflame my desire.

His head is thrown back against the pillow and his sweat-drenched blond hair has gone dark. Wordless, unholy, guttural sounds issue from the back of his pale, thick throat and I can't help but kiss and lick and bite and suck him there.

Oooohhhh yeeeeeeeeeah. Definitely gonna be marks there tomorrow. MY marks. Evidence of our first Raw Fuck. I'll capture the marks on my Nikon tomorrow, when I stand him in front of the bathroom mirror and pinch his nipples and watch him admire my own brand of artistry painted on his body. I'll hold his body tightly against mine and fuck his asscrack with my raw cock because his raw asshole is too sore to take my cock inside him again and my raw cock is too sore to take him again. I'll whisper my version of romantic filth into his ear and graze my teeth and flick my tongue over the marks and watch him in the mirror as he cums all over the vanity without either of us ever touching his cock. I'll be clicking away with my Nikon the whole time.

Tomorrow.

But that's tomorrow and this is now. Right now, I'm trying to contain the depraved rare pure blond Chincoteague pony thrashing beneath me and control my wild stallion dick at the same time.

No one else knows THIS Justin. The scratching, clawing, spitting, biting demon. MY demon. As strong as I am, he's almost impossible to contain when he's thrashing and bucking wildly like this. He's far stronger physically than he looks. I know because we've wrestled with each other many times all over the loft. More than a few times, he won. He's young. So fucking young and absolutely insatiable and determined and unrelenting.

Justin has the veneer and manners of a wealthy suburban country club kid. He looks like an angel and can charm anyone with ease, be it a tranny on Liberty Avenue or a State Senator. Only I know that the complex little obscene angel thinks and smells and tastes and fucks like a demon.

He's a demented cherry cordial. Unknown to me the first time, he was far too intelligent and seductive for my own good.

Lick his shell and nibble off the top. Suck out the thick sticky liquid cream syrup. See the glistening red center ripe for the picking and think you've reached his sugary essence. Bite into his core and HOLY FUCKING SHIT, your mouth is on fire and your head almost explodes!! It's not a candied cherry in the center of his essence. It's a near-lethal capsaicin-laden Bhut Jolokia chili pepper and it inflames your entire body for days, weeks, months, years. For eternity.

In my adman's mind, I instantly name "the product" Sulfuric Assid (L'essence de Justin). It's all MINE. I own the fucking patent. I own HIM.

I didn't know at the time that he owned me, too. When I realized that fact, I did everything in my considerable power to push him away and still hold on to my patent.

I armor myself with Armani and Gucci and Prada and snark and intellect. I look and act like the devil. I think like a predator. Only a few know that if you crack my brittle toffee shell, I have a soft caramel cream center for those I care about. Only a few will ever know, because I choose to let them in.

Contrary to The Liberty Avenue Legend of Brian and Justin, it wasn't the sight of him under the streetlight that got me. It was watching him appear through the mist of the steam grate. I saw a Dante's Inferno vision of heaven and hell and I smelled sulfur sweating through Fresh Scent Speed Stick. My dick got hard and my nostrils twitched and my heart (such as it was then) pounded against my ribs. He looked so wholesome and innocent, but I sensed the depravity inside him immediately. This Lustful Angel had come to Liberty Avenue to claim whatever could be considered my Soul.

No matter what I do to him, no matter where we are, no matter where I take him, no matter who we're with, he always demands MORE. He's nearly worn me out a lot over the years, but I'd never let anyone else know that. But HE knows and keeps pushing pushing pushing. He'll be the death of me. What a way to go. Inside the ass and arms of my Depraved Angel.

OH FUCK NO! Only my raw cockhead is inside his raw ass and I'm gonna cum. I don't wanna cum yet. Don't want him to cum yet. FUCK! He won't stop thrashing and I can't hold him any longer because my cockhead is about to explode and I want all the way inside him before that happens.

We've had "safe words" for years. Neither of us have ever used them before. I'm the first.

"Blue Lights," I strangle-rasp into his perfectly-sculpted seashell of an ear. Desperation sweat drips off my face and pools into the round cup of his ear which reminds me so much of his round ass and I can't help myself. My tongue darts out and laps up my own sweat broth from the soup bowl of his ear. My huge raw cockhead throbs inside him and he grasps it with his raw ass muscles and groans.

The shameless, wanton little demon-slut gives me no quarter. He snarls and thrusts his hot fat wet pink tongue so far down my throat that I choke.

Coughing and on shaky arms, I pull away from his lascivious tonsillectomy and raise myself above him, stare into his eyes and yell "GODDAMMIT, JUSTIN! BLUE LIGHTS! BLUE LIGHTS!!"

His stiff pink tongue hangs momentarily in mid-air and then he slurps it back inside the hot wet depths of his mouth guarded by surreally soft full pink lips. He instantly stops thrashing and writhing and grasping and puts his arms over his head in seductive submission and stares into my soul with eyes that used to be azure-blue but are now dangerously navy-black because his pupils are so blown. He's a perfect vision of ecstasy and agony and dominant submission ON CRACK. I try giving him The Rage Hypnotic Death Stare that he's illustrated so prolifically over the years. He merely stares back at me with JT eyes and flutters his reeeeeeally looooong feathery eyelashes. GODDAMMIT.

FUCK. I'm fucked no matter what I do. All I wanna do right now is pull my painfully swollen and sensitive dickhead from his ass and shove it down his throat. But first, I wanna watch him sniff the combination of my cock and his ass and see his tongue leap out for my cock while I keep it out of his reach. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK....................ME.

About my safe words. Right before Mikey interrupted my and Justin's morning-after first-night bliss, Justin licked my ear and rasped that I told him I loved him while I was fucking him for the sixth time. Little twat had counted the fucks. While kissing and licking and biting and stroking him and alternately pulling on and pushing off his clothing, I snarked that it must have been the Blue Lights and Special K that made me say it.

Arms stretched above his head. His only movements are his artist's fingers drawing ME against the pillowcase. He gives me that smug, self satisfied Special Edition Evil Demon Sunshine Smile that only I get to see.

He's reminding me who's in charge.

He may be a demon, but I am the devil. He is my minion. I am his master. Oh, yeah. It's on. I'm back in control.

I'd launched this campaign earlier. Long, hot shower. Mutual blowjobs to prolong future orgasms. No hair or body products or primping allowed afterwards. Just cinnamon toothpaste because I like the burn inside my mouth and on my cock. Justin loved that. Not five minutes before, I'd swallowed his cum and yet his cock was once again hard and weeping precome against his stomach as we brushed our teeth.

I bury my face in his unadulterated armpit and sniff deeply and then lap and bite greedily at the soft skin and silky hair there - pure deadly sulfur. He cums hard. I feel the ripples of his more-defined 27-year-old pecs and abs undulate against mine.

In the midst of his orgasm, I drive all 9 ½ inches of my raw cock into his raw hole without mercy. We both grit our teeth and hiss. We watch my naked purple cock push his raw pink membranes inside on the in stroke and then his raw red membranes clinging to my cock on the out stroke. I do it over and over again and we just watch.

It's the most erotic and beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life. Except for his face.

His face.

I stare at his face watching our raw union. There it is. Like the first time. His mouth wide open, blond hair saturated with sex-sweat, his eyes and voice full of pain and pleasure and desire and love. He always wants me to take him there again and again and again and again. I won't disappoint him. EVER.

I did tell him I loved him that first night and I meant it. I remember everything and now I'm giving him and taking from him everything we both always wanted and needed.
 

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