Completion

When we broke the kiss, he looked at me, searched my soul through my eyes, and asked, "Do you feel it, too?"

"Electricity," I said.

"Yes, electricity."

Pulling away, I had to express my desire; I had

to let him know that my body ached for his; and I had to have completion.

"Let me love you, Smitty, please," I said, lowering to my knees.

Moving me up to the bed, with hands trailing down my torso, sliding down my hairiness, he encircled my cock and balls, weighed them in his hand and fondled them in warmth, before stroking them. He flicked his tongue over my cock, causing it to expand and causing my shaft to accept the blood draining from my head. Each sensation caused me to swoon, and I tried to lift him from my cock.

"Don't make me cum," I said and tried to lift again.

"You won't; I won't let you," he said and grabbed my cock and balls in a tightening fist. My nipples tingled, my mind closed off sound, and I swayed in the semi-darkness. I ran my hands over his closely cut hair, felt the soft bristle move under my palm. I caressed his cheeks and felt the movement of his mouth work around the head of cock. He worshipped it as if it was imbued with a God-presence. Yes, I felt like a god, my head slow craning to the ceiling. My mind raced to another reality and my body rioted in excitation.

"Please," I said, in almost a whisper to the ceiling, "Please let me fuck you."

"Fuck me, baby," he said rising to bring my hands to his stiff cock and to his warm ass. I slid a finger in his ass and felt the hot flesh roll in on itself. His asshole clamped around my finger as he moaned. And when I inserted another finger, I heard the low chant start: "Love times love times love times love..."

I looked at the length of him, silhouetted against the white bed linen with his eyes drowsed with desire. Our eyes never left each other as I sat between his legs to raise his knees to his chest. Between them, I could still see his drowsy desire.

Wordlessly, I began to explore his ass with my tongue. His chanting increased in volume and speed as I slowly followed the folds of his hole with my tongue, stopping here and there to give attention to a hypersensitive area. My body had melted to reveal my flamed soul. And with my tongue flicking, darting, and stabbing into him, I expressed the joy of tasting his delicate flesh.

"Stop—no don't—please—no, oh don't stop," he said in luxurious arousal, "It is—love times love times love times..."

I lowered over him, our eyes locked in desire, as I said, "I need to fuck your ass, Smitty, I need our completion."

"Fuck my ass, Arnie."

I lubed and played with his ass until I felt his body sag into deep relaxation as I heard the chant, lowered in volume and almost slurred in speed.

Finally, I slipped on a condom, lubed the length of my cock, and ease into him as I moved down over him. With his feet over my shoulders, I rock slowly and smoothly into him. He grabbed my ass and began pushing me but I moved his hand away and continued the slow rock, causing my shaft to plop across that ring of flesh that drove every man insane.

"Love times love times love times...," he raised his head and chanted. Again, the volume increased and speed moved along faster than before. I could feel my cock drawing in to him. I no longer controlled its forward motion. His volume increased even more until I felt the fingers of his flesh grab my cock and pull it into his depths. And as soon as my balls slapped his ass cheeks, his chanting resumed its low tone and trailed away.

I rocked, and along with that, I felt his ass grab and release my cock. I felt small hands pull at the head and along the shaft as if massaged. The sensation of suckling, the pressure of it, sent waves of pleasure spiraling around my shaft, up around my balls, and up to my nipples where they seem to vibrate. My pelvis rotated forward, my thrusts began on their own, and I brought Smitty's legs further over his shoulders to begin pumping the length of my cock into him.

I heard my self chant, a loud volume of effort. I chanted with each downward stroke, circled about, and started again. I entered a trance, sending me above us, to watch us chant with the rhythm of my thrusts. I stoked our fire and I charged our magnets; and each time I rose to thrust, he pulled me further into his roiling flesh.

Our chanting rose, I'm sure, to resounding shouts. We echoed the room with not only our chanting but with the slap, slap, slap of our flesh, like the crescendo coming at the end of a raucous score. The crashing of cymbals, the pounding of kettledrums, and the peel of tubular bells came to my mind. Crashing down we rode a series of crescendos to their conclusion. Each as powerful as the last, until my mind no longer processed the overload. Light spiraled into our chanting, warbled into a dichotomy, until I felt Smitty's ass clamp down on my cock.

We heaved, undulated, and strained through every note and slowly shuddered to mutual orgasm. I moved us to our sides, my deflating cock still in his hole. We panted back to reality and lay in the blissful glow of recovery.

And surprisingly, Smitty did not want silence and did not want to float in his singular bliss, but he did want an answer,

"Why didn't I find you sooner?"

I brought his eyes to mine, looked into his clear, blue eyes, and answered, "Because we weren't complete."