Enough For Me

Once again thanking my editor, RogueLurker. Best gal in the solar system.*kisses* baby.

Give me some feedback and I'll tank you for it, just, please, make it makes sense. *grin*

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Yanking hard on my bag, trying to get the damned thing out of the overhead compartment, I nearly fell backward when it finally came free. I knew I wasn't thinking straight, my stomach was fluttering more every second and my knees felt like they might give out at any moment. I had never been this nervous in my life but then, I had never done anything so wildly reckless before either.

I couldn't believe that I had actually gotten onto a plane and flown to another country to meet a man that I had only know through a chat program. Granted, the country in question occupied the same landmass as my own but still, I justdid not do this sort of thing. It was completely out of character for me and I hadn't felt like I was on solid ground since I had finalized the arrangements for the flight.

The worst part about the whole thing was that I knew this wouldn't lead anywhere. I knew this from all the conversations we'd had, I also knew that he'd never had any sexual contact with another man in real life and while the idea excited him, it also seriously unnerved him. He really got off on messing around with men online but considered himself to be essentially straight. I knew he had no intentions of having an affair. I knew that he loved his wife and I respected that immensely; but, when he asked if we could meet face to face and really get to know each other, I just couldn't refuse. I had no idea what it was about this man but I hadn't been able to deny him much of anything since I first met him while goofing off on a discussion board.

Mild flirting had quickly turned to hot passion and we had been instant messaging for most of every day since then. I felt like he had worked some kind of Haitian voodoo on me, possibly involving the sacrifice of live chickens but most assuredly considerable chanting and naked dancing. It seemed that no matter what I was doing at any given moment, no matter where I was, he was on my mind.

I've heard it said that men think about sex every four minutes. I had that beat by a mile. Every time he popped into my mind, the first thing I thought of was how wonderful, kind and sweet he is. The second thing I though of was him naked and sweating under me, groaning hoarsely and clutching me to him, begging me to make him cum. As a result every time I thought of him, which was averaging around every two minutes, my dick would twitch. If I was alone and could devote my thoughts to him I would wind up getting so turned on that my dick would start leaking. Here I was, a thirty-three-year-old man and I'd become a fourteen-year-old boy again.

So, here I was, about to get off of the plane that had brought me up here to meet him and I felt like I was going to puke or pass out or both. Trying to conceal the rod of steel I was sporting with my carry-on bag, I followed two huge men who looked like they should be Mob enforcers down the tunnel from the plane and stepped off to the side, searching men's faces at the arrival gate. Spotting him, my heart stuttered in my chest. He hadn't seen me yet; he was looking closely at everyone that came out of the debarkation tunnel.

I watched him searching every face, filling my eyes with him in a way that I wouldn't be able to as soon as he saw me. I felt myself trembling and sweating with the desire to go over to him and take his face in my hands and kiss him, long and slow, right in front of everyone in the terminal. I knew the longing had to show on my face, in my eyes. I spent the few remaining seconds I had, before he spotted me, composing my features and trying to get a hold of my body. I looked up, from wiping my face with my hand, and our eyes locked across the slackening flow of passengers.

His face lit up and he quickly began walking over to me. My knees felt even weaker and my throat had gone completely dry.

"Martin? God, man, I was starting to think you hadn't come after all." He said, engulfing my smaller frame in his strong arms, hugging me hard. The contact made my diaphragm seize, I couldn't breathe but I could still smell his sweet, musky cologne. My arms lifted of their own volition and I found myself clinging to him, my head on his shoulder, breathing in his heady aroma.

The second I felt the slight shift that told me he was going to end the hug I let go and pulled away as he did. I didn't want him to think I intended to try and start something physical while I was here. I figured that would make him pull away from me emotionally and I didn't want him to do that. I didn't want to ruin our time together with tension. Stepping back, I looked up into his beautiful eyes and tried to moisten my throat by swallowing several times.

"Nah, man. You know how much I wanted to meet you in person and if I had changed my mind I would have let you know. I wouldn't have let you come here, expecting me to be on the plane, only to find out that I had wussed out. That would beharsh, babe...err...Jack." I wished I could kick myself for that slip but he didn't seem to pay it any mind.

"Let's go get the rest of your luggage and we'll get you checked in to your room, OK?" he suggested, taking my carry-on off of my shoulder before I could protest. I quickly swung my laptop case around to the front to shield my groin.

"Sure, that sounds great. I'm starving, man. I haven't eaten in, like, two days."

"Why not?" he inquired, looking puzzled as he led the way to the baggage claim area.

"Oh, you know, just too nervous to be able to think about food." I replied, watching the people and looking at the advertisements we were passing. Looking at anything but him, feeling embarrassed that I had actually admitted that to him.

"I've been on the verge of pissing my pants for days, myself, Martin." He said, laughing, his eyes shining with mirth.

When I pointed my two bags out as they glided along on the conveyer belt, he said, "Jesus fuck, man, you pack like a woman." and laughed again.

"Well, I really didn't know what to expect in the way of weather and activities so I tried to be prepared for anything, you asshole." I quipped, punching him lightly on the shoulder and laughing with him. We collected my two, large bags, me carrying the carry-on again because he insisted on taking the heaviest ones. I reminded him that I hadn't had any help with them on the other end of the flight and he came back that that was all the more reason for him to help me now. On the way out to his car I asked after Sheila, his wife, he said that she'd had to go out of town unexpectedly because her mother had come down with a nasty bug and needed help for a while.

We picked up some Chinese take-out on the way to my hotel. I kept my laptop in my lap the whole way, my erection just wouldnot subside, and it was incredibly embarrassing. Every thing he did kept my hormones raging. His legs moving as he worked the pedals; his hand casually resting on the stick shift, or gripping it when he needed to change gears; the way the steering wheel slid through the fingers of his left hand when he was straightening up from a turn. The sound of his voice kept sending tremors down my back.

We had jacked off together nearly every day since we met and now I found it impossible to think of anything else. I knew it for certain, now, that I was some sort of weird masochist, otherwise, I would never have agreed to this meeting, which was going to be a week and a half of pure, sexual torture.

We got my stuff up to my room and I started unpacking a little while he set the food out on the table, just getting my shaving kit into the bathroom and my robe thrown out on the bed. I pulled out the little speakers I had brought for my MP3 player and set up a play list so we would have something filling any empty air that might result from nervousness or chewing.

If I had thought that watching him drive was bad, watching him eat was far worse. The way his tongue would slip out and sort of wrap around the food as he put it in his mouth with the chopsticks, then close his lips around them and pull them back out had me nearly climbing the damned walls. He kept up a steady patter of conversation the whole time, talking about all sorts of things that he wanted to do or show me while I was there. I commented when I needed to or had something to say but mostly I ate and tried not to choke on my food when he would poke me with his chopsticks or nudge me with the back of his hand as he spoke.

I had decided that he was one of those people who touch the people they're interacting with without thinking about, the sort of person who is completely comfortable invading a total stranger's personal space while passing a brief word with them when in the market. He would probably put his hand on their shoulder to let them know that he was standing behind them and reaching past them for a head of cabbage, or whatever, say, "Excuse me, buddy, just gonna grab this real quick, thanks." and not even notice the weird look they gave him. In most anyone else it would be incredibly irritating, in him it was endearing.

I'm the sort of person who doesn't like people in my space and I don't like being in other people's space. It's uncomfortable for me, always has been. It's probably because my family wasn't big on touching and such so I never got used to it as a child. I didn't mind Jack touching me though. I desperately wanted him to touch me in other ways; but, I knew it wouldn't happen, so I resigned myself to enjoying the little contact he offered and would jack off a couple of times in the shower before going to bed.

When he unexpectedly reached into my container with his chopsticks to get a sample of my General Tso's chicken, the back of his hand brushed along mine and goose bumps rose over most of my body. My nipples contracted into painfully hard nubs and my already throbbing cock jerked behind my zipper. Feeling myself begin to leak, I put my food down and got up quickly to head for the bathroom.

"I gotta piss, man, I'll be right back." I said, as I walked away from the table. Shutting the door behind me, I immediately opened my baggies and got my dick out to prevent my thong from absorbing any more moisture than it had already. I turned the water on, to mask the fact that there was no way in hell I was going to be able to actually piss, wet a washcloth and sat down on the toilet lid. Taking hold of my dick, I began cleaning myself up, carefully wiping the precum from the head. God, it felt so good but there was no way I could get any relief right now with Jack barely fifteen feet away.

The image of Jack sitting in the other room eating Chinese food, maybe even eating more out of my container, combined with the stimulation of cleaning off the head of my cock was too much; I couldn't resist. My eyes fluttered closed and I dropped the washcloth so that I could stroke with my dominant hand. I leaned back against the tank, my head falling back to touch the wall. Biting my lip, trying to keep quiet, I slowly ran my hand up my shaft. Holding just the head in my hand, I rotated my fist around it like the Earth wobbling on its axis, then slid my hand back down the shaft to squeeze the base, forcing precum out of the slit in a runnel.

Catching some of it with the finger tips of my free hand, I brought it to my mouth, a glistening, spider web like, strand connected the tip of my cock to my lips as my fingers went past them and touched my tongue. My lips closed over them, the way Jack's had on his chopsticks and the bathroom door swung open.

"Hey, Martin, did you want toooo..." I froze, staring at him with my fingers still in my mouth; he froze, staring at my hand on my engorged dick. He just stood there, one hand on the door jam, the other on the door knob, his right leg extended behind him slightly as if he had just taken a step with his left and had been going to take one with the right to come over the threshold. His lips still held the shape of the "O" that had trailed into silence. My eyes dropped to the fly of his jeans, a visible ridge lay directly behind it. I realized that he had to have already been hard or it would have been lying at an angle pointing toward one of his hips.

"Oh God, Jack, I'm so sorry!" I gasped, scrambling to put my dick away, just as he strode quickly over to me.

"No, Martin, don't." he said, going to his knees right in front of me. He grabbed my hands and pulled them out of his way, pushing my torso back against the tank he pulled my baggies open again and wrapped his large hand around the base. I clutched the edge of the counter to my left and the towel rack to my right, not knowing what else to do with my hands and whimpered as my hips involuntarily jerked up at him. When he leaned down and swirled his tongue around the underside of the head I tried to say something, I'm sure I did, all that came out was a sort of gurgling sound. Dropping his head lower, he engulfed the head of my dick in his burning hot mouth, slathering his rough tongue over the entire thing.

"Oh God, Jack, I uuuuuhg..." I had tried to warn him so that he could pull off but the most intense orgasm I'd had in months, maybe years even, slammed through my body, shutting down the speech center of my brain. I felt him jolt in surprise when the first jet hit the back of his throat but he didn't pull back, in fact, he sucked harder, swallowing and just kept flicking his tongue around. When the incapacitating spasms passed my entire body went totally limp and I slid off of the toilet lid and into his lap. My head fell forward, onto his left shoulder, my lips barely touching the side of his neck; it was beyond me to do anything more complex than breathe.

"Fuck, baby, that was hot as shit!" he said, cradling me against his chest, his hands under the back of my shirt, caressing my damp skin, making me shiver.

"Jack, why did you do that? I thought..." I started to say but he interrupted me.

"I couldn'tnot do it, baby. I've been dreaming about doing that since you agreed to come here for your vacation. Should I apologize for doing it? Did you not want me to?" I lifted my head to look into his eyes, such a beautiful blue.

"Jesus, Jack, did it feel like I didn't want you to?" I snorted, answering his question with one of my own. My snort caused my body to shift against him, changing the pressure my ass was putting on his straining bulge. He gasped in then groaned out, his hands dropped down and slid inside the back of my shorts. Cupping a cheek in each palm, he pulled me more firmly against his groin, pressing his hips upward at the same time. I actuallyfelt my eyes dilate as a fresh surge of lust rolled through my body from my fingers and toes and in toward my cock. His eyes were closed to mere slits and his lips were parted. I took advantage of this without even thinking about.

My hungry mouth latched onto his and I ran my tongue into his mouth, exploring the interesting textures I found therein. He caught my moan in his throat and retuned it with his own. He dipped his fingers into my crack and burrowed them under the strap of my thong, finding my pucker and pressing on it with two fingers. My head flew back, tearing our mouths apart, as I cried out. My cock had suddenly become painfully hard again.

"Fuck, baby, I want you sobad! Please, Marty, Ineed tohave you!" he pleaded, licking and sucking the skin of my throat. I hated being called Marty, from his lips it sounded like a benediction. "Let's go into the other room, baby, I wanna see all of you. I wannatouch all of you." It didn't even occur to me to say no. I stood up from his lap, my baggies dropping to the floor. Slipping my feet out of my Birkenstocks, I headed for the door and pulled my t-shirt over my head, letting it fall where it would. I looked at him over my shoulder smiling.

"You coming with me, lover, or will your dick reach from in there?"

When I was out of sight I heard him stand to follow. I dug through one of my bags and pulled out a large bottle of lube just as he came up behind me and pulled my ass into his denim-clad hardon. Looking over my shoulder he saw what I was holding.

"You were expecting this to happen, baby?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"No, Ididn't, you stupid, sexymuthah fuckah! Iexpected to spend every nightjacking off, like apubescent zoo monkey, so I'd be able tosleep." I answered with all honesty. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. When he stopped laughing, he started trying to tickle me, making monkey sounds and I squirmed away from him.

"Stop it, fuck head." I said, trying to sound pissed but I couldn't keep the smile completely off of my face. Laughing again and grabbing me by the hips, he pulled me back against him, facing him this time and kisses me with such heat that my knees nearly buckled. When he pulled back he took the bottle from my hand and looked at it critically.

"This isn't going to be enough for a week and a half, baby, we'll have to get some more." He pitched it onto the queen bed and stepped back to take his clothes off. I watched him strip, as I moved over to the bed and removed my bright red thong. Lying down, I waited for him. He left his clothing in a pile at the foot of the bed then walked around to the side.

"How do you want me, Jack?"

"God, I want youbad, sexy!"

"No, I mean in what way. On my face, my side, my back, how do you want me, baby?"

"Mmm...I want you every way you'll let me have you, Marty, but this time, ourfirst time, I want you facing me so that I can watch you when you cum." My only reply was to smile and spread my legs in invitation, running my hands over my chest and abs. He positioned himself between my thighs and spread himself out on me, kissing and running his hands over me as if he'd never felt skin before. I explored the muscles of his back and his ass, licking and nibbling his neck and shoulder when our mouths weren't engaged with each other. I decided that he was holding back, waiting for me to be ready for him so I started humping my hips into his stomach.

"Jack, baby, I need youinside of me." I groaned into his ear. He shuddered hard and leaned over to get the lube. Straightening up onto his knees, he heavily coated his engorged cock then carefully worked some into my pucker making me slick and loosening me a bit. I was surprised at how easily his mushroom head slid past the outer ring of muscles; it had been an incredibly long time since I'd been with anyone. He was probably more surprised than I was because he had given a fairly hard push and wound up sliding in half way before I tighten involuntarily on his shaft and he stopped. I moaned loudly, arching my back at the exquisite sensations.

"Uh, Jesus fucking hell, baby!" He gasped, pressing his face into my neck and thrusting again, burying himself to the hilt. "Oh fuck, oh fuck,oh fuck! I'm not gonna last, Marty. You feel togoddamned good!" he was panting like he'd been sprinting.

"Fuck me, Jack! Fuck mehard, lover!" I demanded, writhing my hips under his. I knew what the result of this would be and he didn't disappoint me in the least. He began thrusting his hips hard; grunting every time his balls smacked my ass. I don't know if he knew that he was pounding across my prostate but he was. I felt my balls tingle and tighten. I hadn't expected to cum before he did. I thought that I would need to get him back up so that he could fuck me a second time but I defiantly felt myself shooting up the rise to the edge of the precipice.

"Oh fuck, baby, I'm gonnaaaaa..." I felt his shaft swell and jerk hard right up against my sweet spot. When his burning hot jism spattered into me, right in back of where the head of his cock had slammed upward seconds before, I went flying over into the dark abyss of pulsing, colored lights that only exists within my mind during an orgasm.