Samir: Pt 3

by Yani (Bahrain)

And those kisses. Damn. My heart was hard. My dick was scared. My mind raced.

And I got there too late. Couldn’t really ask about him.

Fuck.

And then I saw his girl. I had to have gone red, although I really tried not to.

But she seemed not to notice. And even smiled.

“I might have to tip you somehow.”

“Huh?”

“Samir was so sweet last night. And somehow, he credited you.” She smiled again. “Whatever is was, please do it more.”

“Uh. Ok.”

And she headed off.

Holy shit. Did she really say that? She had to have seen him already this morning. Now I felt bad that I had been so worried. At least kind of.

And there came Samir.

Not showing my embarrassment now was hopeless. And there he was almost beaming.

Fuck. Was it ever going to be easier for me to read him?

His black eyes fucked me. From at least 15 feet away. I tried not to breathe hard. If I could have begged him to fuck them harder, I would have.

Some slightly different smile. “And here I worried you weren’t around today.” Even his smile fucked me.

“Hm. Although, to be honest. I might not have minded if I had known you were too sore.”

Fuck again. He was actually going to bring up what he did?

“Fuck.”

“What? You just said fuck? You?”

I am sure I went even more red. I was almost on the verge of tears.

He put his hand in my hair. Really? Right here?

He was reading me way too close, as he almost whispered: “No need to cry, baby. But I need you before this evening.”

“Fuck. Just a tear or two does make those baby brown eyes even more beautiful, tho.”

He laughed at my speechlessness.

“Your girl thanked me.”

That caught him. And he broke out into one of his public laughs.

“You’re not mad at me?”

He whacked me to the side of the head. “Didn’t you already promise? I did exactly what you asked me to do.”

What the hell did that mean?

I was clay. I needed molding. I wanted him so badly. So deeply.

I sighed. “I surrender.”

“Give me a few minutes. There’s a bathroom downstairs. 10 minutes.”

And he ran off to do god knows what. As my heart raced. Even as he ran back, slipped something in my hand. Could he have said “proof”? And ran off again.

I opened my hand.

A used condom. His used condom. Filled with cum.

My head was spinning. But I also had to sort things out and find this damned bathroom he mentioned. There was no way I was going to be late. I didn’t care what I had to miss to be there.

I swear I was early. But Samir was already there.

I walked in. He was standing at the urinal. Cock out. Harder than I thought I had ever seen it.

Even his balls out.

Oh my god. Was his cock even bigger than yesterday?

He smiled at me. “I miss you.”

He continued: “Fuck. I’ve missed you since the second I pulled out yesterday.”

I was barely listening. I was on my knees.

I kissed his beautiful cock. And the fucker started shooting.

Before I could wonder how or why the crap he kept shooting so fast, I was doing my best to lap it up.
I was barely paying attention as he made sure it didn’t all go in my mouth, no matter how hard I tried. He shot on my nose, even got some in my eye.

Fuck. It was like he was painting. So I became his canvas. Fuck. I would become anything for him.

And like the second he could tell that, he let me go back to worshipping him. Fuck. I really wasn’t just worshipping his cock. I loved him. Would have done anything for him. Could he tell that?

And the fucker shot a second time, and even talked, yet again: “Shit. How do you do that?” As if I were the one making the cum flow out of him.

Now he let me take my time. Lick all around his piss slit. Lightly squeeze the base of his shaft. Suck in his sweet cum. His hands went to my head.

“God I’ve missed this.”

I sucked deeper. More gently. I loved him so damn much.

As he went soft I made sure I sucked him all the way to his pubes.

I could tell he was going to piss. He tried to pull out. I grabbed his ass.

And his piss flowed into my mouth. Down my throat.

Both his hands clenched my hair as I drank his golden liquid. I closed my eyes to focus. I drank and drank.

And he finished. And like that very second he pulled me up. And before I even had my balance his tongue entered my mouth.

“Thank you, baby. How the hell did I not find you earlier. I’ll try to make it until after our workout.”

He pulled his tongue out. Fucked my eyes one more time. But somehow gently this time.

Spit a bit into my mouth.

I was trying to catch my breath as he headed off…
So there I was, covered in cum, filled with cum and piss, with my ass both sore from yesterday and aching because I needed him.

Damn. Why was I not embarrassed that I had just so happily drunk a dude’s piss?

Hard not to at least feel gay, no matter what I thought personally. And as I put myself together to head back out, I did my best not to wash any of his cum off, although that shouldn’t go down that well as I ran into others, and I really couldn’t have that either. I still hadn’t figured out how to deal with the girl I was dating, even if it wasn’t all that deep a relationship.

But I still wanted him close to me. In any way possible.

Hell. Relationships. Just a few days had thrown my mind into a whirl on what those were.

If I could have just run away with Samir , I would have, even though I still didn’t have any idea how real this was. A couple blow jobs, one fuck. Doesn’t really sound like a relationship. And I had still not made sense of everything that had led up to this. Maybe anything.

I still hadn’t even figured out what made the dude write that first note.

I could still go from seeing myself as just another conquest of his to wanting to grab the fucker’s heart and soul and never give it back to him. But of course that depended on him.

So I worked on getting through my day, trying to figure out whether there might be anything at all I could control here.

That was, until I got a message from him that he really needed me to show up for practice half an hour earlier, “if I could.” Interesting, because it seemed to indicate that he saw I had some kind of power here. But just a fantasy, really: I would have dropped anything just to hold his hand at this point. But it still wasn’t like the Samir I knew to leave me with a way out.

And somehow I didn’t even manage to see him at all until that half an hour before practice.

Okay, 45 minutes. I couldn’t risk something else coming up.

And as I walked into the locker room there he was.

The man who was never early for anything.

I had no idea whether he wanted to talk, or just get off again. And it had even hit me that he might have thought we needed to meet so he could somehow apologize again and stop this little whirlwind.

And I swear that was what I saw in his eyes as I looked into them.

Of course, until he greeted me with such a tight deep hug that I had to work not to faint, as his tongue went straight into my mouth. All but making me almost want to faint, no matter how much I worried about control.

“I really can’t stop thinking about you.” He smiled, one of those recently new smiles. “I don’t even want to.”

And suddenly his tongue
stopped fucking my mouth and pulled back to exploring my mouth.

My tears were flowing again.
“You’re worried?”

“Maybe I’m scared.”

He kissed the flow from my eyes. And had this quizzical smile.

“You have no idea how much I need you.”

Need me? Fuck. That didn’t help me figure anything out.

I tried not to break down almost entirely. I held on to him.

Damn. He had such big strong muscly shoulders. I was trying to collect myself.

“Do you have time to fuck me now?”

His smile somehow went so deep.

“You sure?”

And even a bigger smile. “You’re not too sore?”

I lied. Kind of. “Not as sore as I feel without you in me.”

And my hand went slowly down to his crotch.

That had to have been the first time I ever felt his cock not hard.

His beautiful eyes pierced me: “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

Wow. That one caught me off guard: “Honestly?”

He almost seemed crestfallen. “Never anything but.”

“Not even close. Ever.”

to be continued