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Archive-name: Samesex/fantman.txt


Archive-title: Fantasy Man

Jon came by the office today.  He came in, shutting the door, checking that

it was locked.  He was wearing his snugly filled jeans and a short loose

exercise shirt that exposed his hard but smooth belly.  In profile his long

legs rose into the gentle curve of his appled ass. He told me that he had a

problem, that he was in love with me.  He asked me to get up and come to

him.  We held each other.  Running my hand around him and up under his

shirt I felt the strength in his back.  He pressed his crotch into mine. 

We grew hard together.  I felt the smooth warmth of his face.  I looked

into his spirited eyes.  He smiled. Our lips touched.  I lightly licked his

lips.  His tongue slipped into my throat;  my hand down his back and into

his pants.  I caressed his ass, sliding my fingers deep into his cleft.  He

pushed my head down to his waist, pulling me into his softness and hardness

.   Spreading his legs slightly he pressed down into my face.  I smelled

the mustiness, licked his moistness.  Gently I unzipped his fly, pushing my

nose and mouth into his wine , pulling him to me as my hands cupped his

marvelous ass.  I licked his cock through his silk, it grew at my touch.  I

pulled his briefs down below his balls.  He pushed my head back, pressed

his cock against my lips, and forced it deep into my throat.  I gripped it

with my throat, milking it, yearning to suck his come deep inside of me.  I

loved him so. 

The plan was for Jon to move in with me.  We went shopping together

planning out some of the clothes he would need.  First there was the

underwear, thongs, briefs, cock socks.  I wanted something that would show

him at his delicious best.  I made plans with a jeweler for a special

silver ring, about the width of a thumb.  Under his pants it would lift his

balls and push his cock up and out, a ready invitation for a gentle cupping

squeeze or a long thirst satisfying suck.  But there would have to be a

special ceremony for presenting him with this treasure.  Then there were

the jeans and the shorts of all sorts.  One of my favorites was a pair made

with soft grey cuordoroy.  There would be harder looks, but this number was

perfect for giving the sense of a kind of soft dusky strength to Jon's

wonderful legs and strong ass.  I recall snuggling up into his ass, tracing

his soft  and smooth  but strong thigh with my hand.  Heaven!  He would

press his ass down into my face and I would worship, finally pulling down

the veil covering this holy element, communing on his creamy warm bread.  I

would divide it carefully and lick the length of the buttery channel,

stopping briefly to give special devotion to his immaculate wet hole. 

Meanwhile he would masturbate into a silver altar goblet, turn and tip it

into my open mouth.  Somehow his cum was transubstantiated in my mouth,

into a nourishing milk that made me feel at once one with him and yet

subject to his kind but mighty power.  Holy! Holy! Holy!  Jesus what a god!

 Holy to his glorious fuck stick!  Fuck holy, fuck holy, fuck holy to his

omnipotent ass.  It opens to receive me, to make a dwelling for me.  Fuck

holy, fuck holy, fuck holy.  Blessed be the name of my love, Jon!


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