Ethan

The walk from campus down to Tooley's is about ten minutes. Our campus is smack dab in the middle of the old residential part of the city. It straddles a divide; to one side, dentists and lawyers live in stately Victorians and Georgians, and the other, well…it's not so nice. Further across town there's the main drag, full of hipster bait and college student hangouts. Martin's, the semi-official college bar, stands on the corner there.

Further down is Tooley's, a more respectable bar where people in neckties get drunk. I reach it around ten minutes early, wondering what William's play is here. I won't be old enough to drink myself for another couple of months, but either way it's not like we can go hang out in a bar, and we can't go over to the Pony, either. Can't be seen together.

The secrecy is almost alluring. I rather like it, sneaking around.

I'm standing out on the sidewalk when William drives by in his ratty Camaro. He gives a quick point-wave, sending me up the street.

Sighing, I walk another block or two up, where the Camaro is idling on a corner near the middle school. As I get closer, he points and drives off again.

I grimace and follow, watching his taillights blink as he feathers the brake pedal, taunting me. Eventually I catch up with him again, at a stop sign.

“Door's open,” he says.

I barely scramble inside and slam the heavy slab of a door before he takes off, throwing me back in the seat. The tires squeal in protest as he rounds a corner.

“I thought we were trying to be discrete,” I say blithely.

“We are,” he says, patting the dashboard. “Isn't this discrete?”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Out,” he says.

“Like on a date?”

“Like on a date,” he agrees.

My hand is already snaking across the console to rest in his lap. He's changed to jeans and I just have to run my hand down his leg to feel the outline of his meaty cock, ready to wake up and give me a good slamming.

I shift towards him and he stops me, catching my wrist.

“Seriously,” he says, “Road head is a bad idea in a manual.”

I snort and yank my hand back like I'd touched an oven.

“I make one move and you assume I'm going straight for the dick.”

“Either that or you were trying to steal my wallet,” he says, grinning.

“Like there's anything in it to steal.”

William glances at me and clears his throat.

“We're academics,” I say defensively.

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“I'm trying to get your blood up.”

“You're getting something up.”

I break out in snickering little laughs, amused at our juvenile humor.

“Seriously, where are we going?”

“To enjoy the night air,” he says.

With the windows down, the breeze rolls over me. We're quickly out of town and rolling down Highway 1, surrounded by corn and Cyprus trees. I lean back and relax as the cool, humid air washes over me.

“You came to work last night with something in your ass.”

“I was hoping if I showed up nice and warmed up, you'd take a hint,” I purr.

“Don't try to entice me like that, Ethan. Not when there's people around. Anyone could have seen.”

“And connected it to you?” I snort. “Nobody is paying attention. Your students think you're made out of stone.”

“You know that's not true.”

“Mostly,” I say, giving him a quick squeeze through his pants. He stirs, bodily and down there.

“Damn jeans,” he mutters.

“So about this trip,” I say.

“Did you want to come out here to talk shop?”

“I wanted to come out here to fuck,” I say sharply. “Are we going to?”

“When and if I decide to,” he says.

“Where are we going again?”

“You'll know when we get there. As I was saying. You're my assistant, so you're assisting. You'll take care of the hotel reservations and all that.”

I snort.

He pulls up to a stop sign out here in Children of the Corn Ville.

He grabs me and pulls me into a sudden, rough kiss. It's like swallowing a big gulp of molten jasmine. I shudder all over and mold against him, until he peels me off and drives again. I squirm in my seat, rubbing my legs together so my erection can get comfortable in my jeans.

His hand snakes down between my legs, and he wraps his fingers around my bulge and caresses.

I pop the button and unzip, opening my pants. His hand slips into my underwear and he stops, startled.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

I grin.

It doesn't matter, he frees me easily, driving with one wrist lazily propped on the wheel while his hand holds and cups and strokes my cock to full hardness. He runs his thumb over the head and I moan softly, pulling up my shirt.

The engine barks a cough and he slows a little.

“Pulling on me won't change gears,” I say.

He quickly grabs the shifter and takes care of that. I take over stroking myself.

“Put it away,” he says.

Frowning, I tuck myself back into my pants, with effort. I'm hard as a rock now, the bastard. He turns off the main road.

“Where are we going?”

He pulls to a stop behind an old restaurant, empty now. There's picnic tables behind. After killing the engine, William jumps out and grabs a backpack from the trunk and spreads a blanket on the ground.

As I walk around the car he grabs me by the waist and whips me around, grinding against me from behind like his cock is going to punch right through both pairs of jeans and ram all the way up my ass. I rise on my toes, arching as the phantom sensation precedes a real one.

I fall forward, my hands on the trunk. William pulls my shirt loose, running his hands all over my stomach and chest. I yelp when he pinches my nipples, and it turns into a soft, high moan when he nips at my ear with his teeth. He grabs my hair and pulls, driving into me from behind.

Then I'm turned around, and he has me, attacking me with kisses, my lips, my throat, my shoulder, pulling at my shirt. I writhe and throw my leg around him and pull him in, shoving my own hands up under his t-shirt. He ripples with strength and power, and just touching him makes me shudder.

He's pushing me back now, hands on my shoulders. I sprawl across the trunk of his car. Taking my ankles, he pulls me close and yanks my zipper down, then my pants. Cool air floods across my thighs and butt. He stares at my underwear.

“Is this a thong?” he says.

Before I answer he snaps it against my hip and I yelp.

He seizes the sides and pulls it down. My cock springs up, hard, and hits my stomach. Shivering, I stare at him. The afternoon is just the uncomfortable side of cool, but things are about to heat up.

William leans over me and kisses my lips, then my neck, down my chest. He stops at my nipples, sucking and pinching with his teeth. I feel them working down my stomach, hard pinches between soft warm nuzzles and kisses, until he's brushing my shaft with his lips.

He takes me in his mouth and I squirm and writhe, totally in his power now. His grip on my hips is like iron and he uses his mouth and tongue, bathing my cock and balls with licks, sucking the head, inflaming me to arched, agonized pleasure.

Damn, he knows how to work me. I uncoil and moan, louder and louder as he doesn't stop me, my back arching on the trunk of the car. I get closer and he edges off until I'm closer again, and again, and again. I can barely take it anymore.

I come, bursting in his mouth, and he devours me. It's like my soul is being sucked out.

He stands up and pulls my jeans down, roughly rips my shoes and underwear off.

From his pocket, he pulls out a condom. I sit up, sweaty and panting and shivering, and watch him roll it down his tremendous girth. I barely got to touch him, much less suck him off a bit so he'll finish faster: I'm getting the full experience this time. He's huge. I start to turn and he pushes me back down, lifting my legs as his jeans fall to his knees. He squirts lube onto his cock and rubs it while he pushes more up my ass. The slick jelly is cool on his fingers, and I feel like I've been dipped in ice.

I put my calves on his shoulders as he pulls me into him, and curl up, bent to watch. He teases my balls with the tip of his cock and presses it under, against me. The full size of it is a shock. It doesn't feel like it could even fit, too blunt to open me up, but he pushes and my body, shivering, opens. I try to relax but gasp and tense up at the incredible, consuming feeling of my ass spreading open, forced open, my body yielding to force.

He stops when he hears me, slows. It makes it harder to take him when that first penetration is slow—but I don't want it to be easy. I like the sensation of being spread open, just to the edge of pain, and let out small soft moans and sighs while I watch his thick cock disappear between my legs until I can feel his balls pressed into my ass and his stomach tickles mine.

I lie back and he arches over me, hands on the trunk on either side of my head.

I've never done it missionary before. It's not always easy. You need a partner in good shape and with a big cock. William has both. He looks down at me hungrily, a twist of something vicious through the longing in his eyes. When he thrusts, the Camaro's springs grunt under me, the car rocking with his strength, and he's not even going that hard or fast.

I lie back and relax, cool heat spreading through my body. He runs his hands down my chest and stomach, teasing. Soon he strokes me to full hardness and the rush as my own cock engorges tightens me around him so he grunts with effort to bottom out.

He's so big. It feels like I'm going to split down the middle any second. It's like shrinking—so vulnerable, and in that vulnerability, I'm free. When he puts his hand on my throat I grip his wrist with both of my hands, not to pull away but to push. He doesn't squeeze hard enough. I want to feel my pulse against his fingers.

My legs droop, my body going all to jelly as he starts to thrust harder. There's nothing in the world but the feel of that big shaft traveling, that big head opening, the pressure and motion against my insides, stroking the base of my own dick from within. My balls get tight and my cock impossibly hard, so hard it hurts, tight against my stomach.

I've never had a boyfriend who could make me come from fucking alone. Much less after I've come once. Much less twice.

It happens fast. It's not like a regular orgasm from jerking off or even a blowjob. That feels different. That kind of cummings is forceful, strong, it feels like an exertion, a taking, a flash of raw power without all the inhibitions we build up around ourselves all our lives.

This is the opposite. He doesn't bring me to a clenching release, he rips pleasure out of me. I arch, and while coming feels as good from my cock as ever, that sensation mingles with and is drafted by a full body shuddering explosion that thunders along every vein in my body until my nerve endings are overloaded, like I was in a pot, boiled without knowing it, and suddenly picked up and tossed in a freezing cold pool. I cry out, unable to do anything else, my moans louder with each spurt across my stomach.

William grabs me. He seizes my hips, pulls, and arches back to get every inch of his dick in me, like he'd get his whole body in there if he could. His moan is strained, painful, and I can feel him finishing, feel it throb. For some reason I picture a thunderhead rising in a blue sky.

He leans over me panting, spent, but still inside me.

William gives me a little smirk, twitches some muscle somewhere, and his cock quivers in me. I giggle stupidly, rubbing his chest.

He pulls out and rips the condom off, cleaning his hands. He…wow, that was a lot. A shuddering instinct fills me: I want that. In me. I need it. It's not safe…not yet, not until…

He has to be mine forever, nothing between us.

I stand bare-assed in the wind and hold up my shirt while he cleans me. My legs are shaking like reeds in a wind, but I have this stupid impulse not to show weakness. I've never been with a woman; I don't know how girls act after a hard fuck like that, but I'd feel less if I showed too much of how it affected me. Like I need to be man enough to take that tool.

I can't stop staring at it, swaying heavy and half hard as he moves, until it disappears into his jeans again.

My pants back on, I flop on the old picnic table.

William brought me dinner.

I guess he should, after that.

Before I get the chance to pick up a wedge of sandwich, he scoops it up and pushes it into my mouth, feeding me.

I think I could fall in love with this guy.