PND-431 Made With Clay

Excerpt

Keith’s mouth ranged over his torso, each touch of the hot tongue a delicious burn that left the skin glowing long after it had moved on to another spot. Lower and lower Keith worked, building the fires higher and higher in Clay; the tongue delved into the deep well of the navel, slid down the soft, sensitive crease where leg joined body, attacked the underside of the balls, and then the mouth opened wide, engulfing them both and ever so gently chewing on them.

It was too much; Clay didn’t think he could stand more and reached down to pull Keith up, to try to cool down a little in a long deep kiss. But Keith shook his hands off and instead lifted Clay’s hips. Releasing the balls, his mouth dove into the cleft between Clay’s firm buttocks, his tongue searching, seeking, demanding, and finally gaining entrance.

Like two hot wires suddenly fused together, both bodies reacted; Clay throwing his legs up high and straining to open wider to that unbelievably exciting tongue, each staccato jab into him so exquisite a pleasure that it was almost pain while Keith’s whole body began shaking, his breath coming in short gasps that built up to a long groan and Clay felt the other’s hot spunk come jetting and splashing against his back.

Keith might be finished, but Clay was far from through. Quickly he rolled the other over onto his stomach and, barely taking time to wet himself with saliva, climbed on top of him. He didn’t know if Keith wanted to be screwed or not, but the fires bubbling through him were too hot to be denied and with a mighty shove he drove home.

Keith opened for him readily and oh, the fabulous torment as Clay felt himself sliding deeper and deeper into that warm wet canal. It was heaven and hell; the sun, moon, stars, the whole universe were dancing and bursting inside Clay as he began the long ride home. Only in time it wasn’t long, he was far too excited to be able to hold back and began pounding his cock in and out of that glorious ass. He drove his thighs down with a loud slap on the upturned buttocks, then would pull back until he was almost free, just the tip still buried, reveling as he could feel the hot flesh quivering under him, wanting, needing to be impaled again and again.

Faster and faster he reared and plunged, matching his movements to the little cries that welled up deep from within Keith until he shot past the point of control and collapsed, gasping on, and spewing in Keith, feeling as if his very insides were gushing forth.

Neither spoke as they lay still, drawing in great lungfuls of air. Neither slept much that night. Long before dawn, both sensed, without a word having been uttered, that each had found something in the other, that indefinable magic that raised even the greatest sex onto a plain that is so far more than merely physical.