Author's Notes: Nothing really deep here, pretty much all sex.  It’s just something that came to me while at my new job when I realized that almost everything I try to write about procedures and techniques just gets my mind wandering to Brian and Justin's procedures and techniques.  You should see *my* thinking trains.  <g>

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Once the initial jolt of ecstasy wears off and the rhythm sets in, I get comfortable, I can’t help myself.  The warmth of having his mouth surrounding the head of my dick.  The stroke of his nimble fingers hugging my shaft.  My mind just wanders off…and I start thinking, ‘Shit he’s so fucking good at this…’


You know how when a single thought pops into your head and you start thinking about it and then you suddenly realize that you're thinking about something else that seems kind of out of context to what your original thought was?  So you wonder what in the world got you thinking about 'that', and you start to back track your thoughts to figure out how in the hell the trail ended where it did.  All these random thoughts are connected from one to the other; so I call them “thinking trains”. 


You start off with your original thought, the engine, then something else comes to mind and you've added a car, then another car with another thought.  Before you know it, you’ve built this train of thoughts and when you realize what you’ve done, a caboose appears out of nowhere and the train suddenly stops.  This happens to me all the time because I'm always thinking.


I like to backtrack my trains because I want to know what led me to the end.  What was my engine and how did the cars keep progressing?  Some trains will be short with just 2 or 3 cars, but when I'm really stressed about something, I'll build a pretty fucking long-ass train.  Try backtracking a train that is 50 cars in length and you’ll see just how complex my mind really is.  But no matter how short or how long they are, they tell a story.  They get to the heart of where my mind is, it’s my subconscious creeping to the surface.


Some of my best campaigns have come to me while someone was sucking my dick.  Remember, "Eat the Meat"?  Fuck me, that was a good one.  Okay, I know that it was actually someone else that said the words, but it was my dazzling brilliance that knew it meant something.  It’s really the best time to think, when your cock’s being serviced.  It gets me in this creative thinking zone.  Vance always asks me where my ideas come from; like I'd ever fucking tell him. 


The sucking on my dick always gets the juices flowing…literally, and I start playing out different scenarios in my mind.  Sometimes an idea sticks and sometimes nothing seems quite right.  The odd thing is this, either way, the thoughts progress from the ad campaigns to the current blowjob at hand.  The majority of my campaigns are sex related because, well, sex sells, so it only makes sense that that’s the natural progression of my thinking trains.  Maybe I really do think with my dick.


No matter who it is that’s sucking me off at the time, as soon as I turn my thoughts to the actual blow job and how it feels, Justin pops into my head and my train suddenly veers off in another direction...how much better the sucking and tugging would be if it was his lips wrapped tightly around my shaft and his tongue swirling around my throbbing head.  I can’t help it.  He is, by far, the best at giving head.  Believe me, I would know.  I’ve had my dick sucked by practically everyone.


A couple of swipes of his tongue on that one sensitive spot on the underside of my cock and I’m suddenly jolted from my thoughts.  It's wet and slippery and it just feels so fucking good.  He’s breathing in heavy pants and little moans are escaping from the depths of his throat.  He’s really getting into this.  Fuck, so am I.  I cover my face with my arm as if it will block out the bright light that's flashing behind my eyes.  I grab a handful of his hair, trying to ground myself.  The more he gets into this particular blowjob, the deeper my thoughts have to go.  I have to control myself when he's there or I'll cum too quickly.  I need to fight the feeling.  Suppress the urge.  I have to think…’Don't cum’.  He’s just so fucking good at this. 


Yep, Justin is the best.  Of course, I taught him, but fuck, that was just technique.  Our first night we explored the pleasures of his ass; how it feels when it's thoroughly rimmed and fucked.  So when there ended up being a second night, I took that as an opportunity to introduce him to the wonderful things that a mouth and a tongue could do to his dick.  I sucked him off twice that night.  The first time he laid back and enjoyed the feeling.  His body quaked and quivered.  I’m sure he’d never felt anything like it before.  When he started to cum, he grabbed my face and tried to pull me off but I fought him to stay and took in everything he had to offer. 


His eyes were as big as saucers when I pulled off his cock and looked at him.  I guess he didn’t know.  Fuck, that’s the best part.  I’d swallowed most of it but saved some just for him.  I wanted him to experience it all.  I leaned up to kiss him and he hesitated at first but I pushed through.  “Take it,” I mumbled into his mouth and he did.  He swallowed as we kissed.  He moaned at the taste and began milking on my tongue.  I pulled away from the kiss with heavy pants and smiled at him.  “Damn,” I said in between breaths.  He blushed and smiled back; an innocently devilish smile that seemed to tell the world he’d been a naughty boy.  Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.  He liked it.  No, he fucking loved it.


I felt this tingle in my groin as my cock told me it needed release, so I fucked him three times before we got in the shower.  That was the place for the second blowjob and this time, he stood there, eyes opened and focused.  He wanted to watch.  He wanted to see what I was doing.  He wanted to learn.


I think about that sometimes; the things that he learned from me and I wonder if he’s as good to his tricks as he is with me.  I mean, I taught him, so the things he learned are all the things that I like.  So is that why I can’t get enough?  There aren’t too many men that are still with the virgin that they popped and if they were, would they think of them as their best, as I do him?  It kind of twists my brain and I can’t seem to wrap myself around it. 


Your technique and style with sex always improves as you learn and you add those things that make you feel good, but…  I don’t do repeats so I don’t have anything to compare it to.  Is it that I taught him?  Is it that we’ve done it so often that he just knows my body and how to make it respond?  What is it that makes him the best fucking lover I’ve ever had?  These thoughts and feelings are just so new to me.


I know I’m the best he’s ever had but I’m not trying to be cocky.  I don’t think it’s because of how I’ve always done it, it’s how I do it now that makes me his best.  I know his body as well, if not better, than my own and I know what tickles him, what gets him excited, what makes him rock hard, what makes him beg for more.  I know about that little spot on the inner part of his thigh that when nibbled on makes his toes curl.  I know what direction to angle my dick in his ass to make him keen so loudly that it pierces into my brain like a sharp knife.


I know all of his body’s secrets and that’s my secret.  I know how to make him tremor and shake.  Maybe I just answered my own question, or part of it anyway.  He knows me, he knows MY body and all of IT’S secrets.


His lips encase my entire cock and his tongue twirls around the head as he starts bobbing.  My body stiffens at the sensation and my thoughts snap.  He knows what he did.  “Just breathe,” he whispers in between heavy pants of his own.  He’s telling me to ‘just breathe’?  Sometimes I wonder if he’s even aware of just how turned on he gets.  He’s so focused on me and my cock in his mouth, I really don’t think he notices.  I sure as hell do.  Then I feel his hand stroke across my flexed abs to calm me.  It’s so soothing as I try to once again suppress that urge, to relax.  I succeed and my breathing evens out so he continues.  He’s moving a little faster this time making little slurping noises.  I hear gasps for air after each up stroke and it reminds me…he loves this.  Then it hits me…that’s it.


He may have learned the technique from me that night, but that extra something that he puts into it has nothing to do with me.  That extra bit that makes him so good is that he really loves doing it.  It’s a hunger, a need.  All guys give head but not all enjoy it.  Some go through the motions as just being part of a gay man’s life.  But Justin, he fucking loves it.  He craves it.  He loves dick down his throat and he loves sucking it.  That just has to be it.


He reminds me of this porno I saw with a bunch of breeders from the soccer team when I was about 14.  We were over at this kid Mark’s house after practice, when he pulls out this video and pops it into the VCR.  All the guys were excited.  It was a straight porn of course, so I wasn’t as excited as the other guys, but I learned early on to at least pretend to be interested in what guys did with girls.  I got really good at hiding the fact that what I really wanted to do was puke my guts out at the sight of hetero sex.  Just the thought now makes me want to hurl and my body shivers. 


I guess he felt it because I suddenly noticed a change in the shape of his mouth.  His lips aren’t wrapped around on all sides and they feel more taut than they should be at this stage.  The little twat was smiling.  He thought that shiver was because of him.  If he only knew.  That thought made me smile but fuck, are we here to entertain each other or are there more important tasks to be accomplished.  I think the later so I buck my hips slightly and he continues…so, I do too…


This particular porn was a little different.  It was called Deep Throat or something like that and it was about a woman whose clitoris was in her throat, so the only way she could orgasm was when a dick was bumping and rubbing in the deep recesses of her throat.  Needless to say, this movie spoke to me.  I remember getting hard at the sight of those dicks going in and out of her mouth.  I just kept blocking out the fact that the mouth belonged to a woman and imagined that it was mine. 


Blowjobs suddenly became my new fantasy so when the opportunity came up a few months later, one afternoon after practice in the locker room shower…well, let’s just say; it was the most famous shower scene since psycho.  At least in my life up to that point. 


I still find it odd that I told him about that.  On the first fucking night we met no less.  I knew he was a little scared but I also knew that if he was here and letting me take him so willingly then he had to have had his own little blowjob and cock fantasies by this point.  So I guess that was my way of telling him that we all go through it and it's okay to be scared.


But as scared as I was during that shower, I remember thinking that it was the best fucking shower I’d ever had; clothes and all.  There’ve been better shower scenes since then and all of them include Justin.  There’s something about his body when it’s soaking wet.  I don’t know what it is but it’s something.  That morning, after our first night, when I wandered into the bathroom and saw him slightly bent over with soapsuds and water streaming down his back and over his ass, well, my dick stood up and I just had to join him.  And now, I hate showering alone. 


His skin is so smooth that when it’s all lathered up and wet, your fingers seem to just glide over it.  It’s so slippery and fun.  I feel like a kid when we shower together.  He’s like my own bathtub toy.  I can lather up his hair and make little spikes.  Now that his hair’s longer the spikes are really tall.  It makes him look like one of those punkers from the seventies which makes me laugh.  He knows the absurdity of it, swats me backhanded across the stomach and he gives me a giggle. 


I can play with his ass and watch as his dick sprays the walls of the shower.  It sticks at first and then slowly slithers down, tile by tile.  Sometimes we’ll make each other spray the tile at the same time just to see who’s cum makes it to the bottom first.  His always wins, the little shit.  I don't know what that means; maybe it's all the heavy carbs he eats.  But I hate to loose so I have to punish him.  I push him against the wall, spin him around and bend him over.  He splays his hands against the tile and spreads his feet wide like I’m a cop and he’s under arrest.  Then he laughs and mocks me with this high-pitched voice squealing, “Oh no, not that!”  Of course that gets me hotter.  “Yes, that,” I growl as I slam into him.  I really don’t think he minds. 


I can pick him up, wrap his legs around my waist and just hold onto him as he slips and slides up and down my cock.  That’s a real challenge sometimes because it’s so hard to get a good grip when you’re all soapy.  But then again, the challenge is half the fun.  Showers just haven't been the same since that fateful night…and they just keep getting better. 


Anyway, my point is that Justin reminds me of that chick in that movie.  If men had a clitoris, I would bet money that Justin’s would be in his throat.  He gets off on sucking cock.  Really. 


One time he actually shot his load all over his belly and on my brand new duvet right after I came down his throat.  The fucker got off just by sucking me off.  I swear I didn’t touch him.  He raised his head and looked at me with droplets of my cum oozing out from the corners of his mouth.  His tongue reached out and swirled all around his lips sweeping up all the little droplets along the way.  He pulled his tongue back inside, closed his eyes and said “mmmm” as he swallowed.  Fuck!  If I hadn’t just cum a few seconds before I would have cum just from the sight of that alone…but I didn’t…instead my dick started to get hard AGAIN, fucking almost immediately. 


I sat up, grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down on his back.  I swooped down and licked all his cum off his stomach.  That’s not normally my thing, but fuck.  I just had to; he made me want to do it.  The little shit.  He brings out the nasty in me.  He giggled at first because my tongue tickled his belly but that feeling quickly vanished and when I moved up to kiss him I could tell that got him excited because he was watching me with those droopy looking eyes and his mouth was hung open.  I couldn’t resist that so I kissed him…hard.  I pulled away with a smirk on my face, which brought him out of his daze.  He said, “What?” all innocent-like and I remind him of what he did by shifting my eyes to the wet spot on the duvet, cocking an eyebrow then looking at him again.  He grinned that grin that makes my whole body tingle and simply said, “Oh, sorry”.  How the fuck was I supposed to stay mad at that?


I can’t even begin to count how many of those fucking duvets I’ve had to replace since he came along and kept cumming all over them.  I know I can’t blame him completely because when we fuck, we both loose ourselves and it always gets a little messy.  I think I’ve tripled or quadrupled my cleaning bill as well.  My practical side tells me to just strip the bed before we start in or at the very least cover it with one of Gus’ plastic sheets in order to save all the money that I’m spending on new linens and dry cleaning, but I push those thoughts away.  What’s the point in having enough money to buy nice things if you can’t enjoy their comforts?  I refuse to be one of those people who buys a nice couch and keeps it covered in plastic.  If I wanted a fucking plastic couch, I’d buy a fucking plastic couch.  So basically, I let him think that it irritates me but to tell the truth, I would spend all the money that I have, because it’s his lack of inhibition with sex
and his body that’s so fucking hot and I just wouldn’t trade that for anything.


He dives deep and swallows around my head and it jars my thoughts.  It feels so fucking amazing.  He creates this tightness and doesn’t let go.  He pulls back so that just the head is in his mouth then he wraps his hand around the shaft.  His mouth sucks.  His hand squeezes and pumps.  ‘Oh God, it’s so tight’.  He pulls and constricts his throat like he’s nursing a bottle and as perverted as that may sound, it’s gotta be one of the fucking sexiest things in the world. 


He can keep this tension going for the longest time.  Longer than anyone I’ve ever met.  He enjoys it so much; it must be comforting or something to him because the only time he lets go is when I’m about to cum.  He allows me to calm down and then he latches on again.  I know he doesn’t want me to get off too quickly so it’s a good thing that I like to think.  It keeps my mind off what he’s doing.  ‘Oh damn, that's hot’.  Well, not completely off it, but it helps.  It’s just so tight and he’s pulling and sucking.  My back arches off the bed, I squeeze my eyes shut and my hands reach for his head.  I must think…he's just sucking so hard...it feels so good and I just can't stop moving.  I have to think...anything...any thought at all...


I can remember one time thinking that he was really sucking me hard, like a fucking vacuum and I realized at the same time that I was uncontrollably rising up off the bed and arching my back.  Pretty much exactly like right now.  Fuck.  If it hadn’t felt so damn good, I would’ve chuckled at that.  I mean, he was sucking and I was coming up off the bed.  If anyone had been watching us it would’ve looked like his mouth was using my dick as a means to pick me up.  You know, like one of those strong-man acts at the circus that can pick up an enormous amount of weight tied to a rope and attached to a mouthpiece that he sticks between his teeth.  The vision of that still makes me smile and I feel a small rumble of laughter deep in my belly.


He feels my rumble or sees my smile or something because he pulls off my dick, which makes me open my eyes.  I lift my head and look down at him.  He’s staring at me inquisitively.  I don’t say anything so he asks, “What are you smiling about?”  I decide not to answer, plop my head back down on the pillow and push his head back down on my dick.  He gets the message and dives back in. 


He goes all the way down.  I feel myself bump the back of his throat and he moans which sends shockwaves of pleasure throughout my entire body.  I shiver.  He smiles. And this time he was right, it was because of him.  I buck my hips and he closes his lips.  I can feel hot air blow against my hairs and I know he's trying to breath through his nose so he can keep his mouth closed.  He swallows again and pulls up to the head.  ‘Aaaah, fuck’.


I would tell Justin what that smile was about but he wouldn’t see the humor in it like I do.  Maybe he would.  I guess it would depend on his mood.  Sometimes I feel like our sick humor is right in sync and other times…well, I just disappoint him.  One thing I know for sure is if I told him the circus story, he would see the compliment that it implies.  And it’s how he takes the compliment that’s so endearing to me now.  He would give me a small smile and his cheeks would flush a light shade of pink.  He does it all the time now.  It’s kind of sexy and sweet. 


It’s amazing to me that someone with his confidence can still maintain his shyness.  He has just enough insecurities to keep him in that state where you want to say nice things about him all the time just to get that little blush and that slight smile.  I don’t mean to sound so torturous but I didn’t tell him how good the sex was before because I didn’t think he deserved it.  But after we got back together, I seemed to be saying it all the fucking time.  I just couldn’t get enough of that look.  It was just so sexy sweet.  I don’t know how else to describe it.


We’d have a really good fuck and I’d tell him it was, “Aaaaamazing”.  He’d just smile and let out a puff of air.  He’d give a really good blowjob and I’d say it was so fucking hot.  He’d smile and cover his face with his hands.  He’s so much more mature now but he still has that innocence.  He’s not trying to act more mature, he just is.  But his age still makes him young and I think he’s finally embraced it.  It’s so different now.  He still has confidence, it’s just not cockiness like it used to be.


It’s funny how people are and I guess I just realized this about us.  Before…you know, before... 


I’ve actually divided our time together into two different sections.  It used to be BP and AP, which stood for Before Prom and After Prom, but that whole deal is behind us now.  Those wounds have healed.  The wounds we are working on right now were caused by a waddling worm that I not-so-affectionately call the fiddle-fuck.  I don't ever speak his name so I just consider our new life sections to be BFF and AFF. 


So anyway, BFF, Justin was confidant and was always telling me that I soooo loved him madly, that he was on to me, that I gave a shit.  He pranced around like I just couldn’t get enough of him.  Okay, so he was right, maybe, fuck I don’t know.  I didn’t know how I really felt BFF.  But regardless of how I felt, he was too fucking cocky for his own good so I'll be damned if I was going to feed that ego.  I chose to keep my mouth shut and well, we ended up in purgatory with the FF.


But now…it’s after…it’s AFF and he told me that he understands now.  He says he knows now, but yet he seems so nonchalant about his newfound knowledge.  He’s not using it against me like he used to so I find myself wanting to tell him all the time just how much I enjoy being with him.  He fucking knows for Christ’s sake and yet I’m telling him over and over just to reinforce it and he’s blushing at the fucking compliment.  Like I said, his reaction is sexy and sweet so it’s so much easier to tell him stuff now.


It's something I've thought about, you know, a fucking lot.  I'll be damned if I'm going to keep my mouth shut and let purgatory back into my life.  Our lives.  If it felt amazing, I'm going to fucking say so.  If it felt hot, I'm going to fucking say so.  If he looked hot all decked out in leather, I'm going to fucking tell him.  No way in hell is some little smooth-talking FF going to come between us again.  If I ever see him again, I swear I'll rip...


He releases my dick and cries out, “Ow, ow, ow,” with his head tilting in an awkward position. 


I’m pulled out of my thoughts and realize that I’ve got his hair twisted in my fingers, my knuckles are white and I’m pulling hard like I’m trying to rip all his hair out.  Shit.  I release the hold on his hair, touch my hand to his face and brush my thumb across his cheek.  That was too much serious thinking for a blowjob and I’m feeling truly sorry. 


I smile at him to reassure him that everything's okay and he smiles back.  “Where’d you go?” he asks. 


“Nowhere,” I reply.  I can’t admit that my thoughts strayed to the FF because if I did then that would be verbalizing my thoughts and I just can’t do it.  Not about that.  I won’t give the FF the satisfaction that he interrupted one hell of a good blowjob. 


I’m thinking he’ll give up now and move on to other things but, no, he rubs his hand against my thigh as if to soothe me then goes back to what he was doing.  Shit, that was nice.  I guess he hasn’t had enough of my dick yet.


And…I know he doesn’t want me to cum yet.  We have these little signals that tells the other what we want.  If he wanted me to explode in his mouth he’d be massaging my balls.  I don’t need him to do that to get off, it’s just what he does.  He hasn’t done that yet, so I know, he just wants to suck my dick for a while.  And that’s okay with me.  I can take it for a little bit longer.  When I can’t take it anymore I’ll signal to him with a little pressure on his head.  That’s my sign for him to not stop when he feels my dick throb and my balls draw up. 


It’s kind of amazing that things work out that way.  You don’t have these signals with tricks because they’re strangers.  They get one chance to know your body and since there aren’t any repeats then they never get to apply what they learned from the last time.  This is kind of nice.  A slight gesture and your wish is granted.  No, actually, it’s real fucking nice.


So where was I?  Oh, his reaction to the strong-man/circus compliment.  I was thinking about what he’d do if he was feeling shy and I think I would like that reaction the best.  But there’s a slight chance that he’d be feeling a little cocky and sexy then he would turn on his seductive voice, approach me with a wicked grin and probably grab my cock to give it a squeeze.  That’s never a bad thing for him to do, but when he gets cocky like that, I’m just reminded how he used to be and well, I like him so much better now.  It’s hard to say how he would react really and there’s always the possibility that he wouldn’t see the humor in it at all and then he’d just give me that disapproving look he gives me when I’ve done something wrong.  I’ve seen enough of those looks to last me the rest of my life and I don’t intend on ever seeing another one.  So, whether he would get blushed, cocky or disappointed, I don’t know.  But to stay away from the disappointed, I’ll pass on this one.  It’s not worth taking the chance. 


Like I said earlier, it would have made me chuckle if it hadn’t felt so damn good, but it did and it does, so I wasn’t laughing and I’m not laughing now.  He's doing that thing that he does with his tongue.  He pushes it in to my slit and applies just enough pressure...oh fuck, my dick is so hard.  I'm sweating and I can't seem to catch my breath.  He just has to want me to cum soon...in my mind, I'm begging him to not make me beg, but fuck, I will if I have to.  I can't think anymore.  He just has to...


I instinctively push lightly on his head and before I realize that I've given the signal, he's massaging my balls.  We both know we’re ready.  Thank God or whoever, but thank someone.


I feel his fingers leave my balls so I groan as I think that maybe I was mistaken.  Very quickly I’m reassured when I feel two fingers join my dick in his mouth.  They disappear and the next feeling I have is a thumb pressed against my balls rolling them back and forth.  My hips rise up at the sensation and I find out that’s exactly what he wanted me to do.  With my ass in the air, he twisted his hand underneath me and when I lowered my hips back down, those two fingers that are now slick with his spit slide right up inside me.  I gasp sharply at the initial intrusion and tighten my grip on his hair and the bed sheets.  He holds them there and waits.


His thumb is still playing with my balls, his other hand is pumping on my shaft, his tongue is teasing my slit, his lips are massaging my head.  I’m on overload and he knows it but just to kick it up a few more notches, his fingers start to move in and out.  I want to scream at the top of my lungs.  I don’t know how much more I can take.


He gets up on his knees and I see his dick bouncing in the air.  I want it so I grab for it.


That hand with the thumb in my balls and the fingers in my ass disappears and it slaps my hand away from his dick then quickly returns it to where it was before.  I don’t know what he had in mind when he got up on his knees, but obviously, my hand on his cock wasn’t it.  I let my curiosity go and with it all my control. 


I arch my back and let it all go.  When the first rush pulses out of me and into his mouth, he moans and sucks and swallows and his hand pumps faster and his fingers go impossibly deeper.


“Fuck!” I cry out as the orgasm washes over me.


He milks every last drop out of me and like a bolt of lightning he’s gone.  I force my eyes open just in time to see him sit up, lick the excess cum from his lips, grab his dick, point it right at me, throw his head back and shoot his load all over me.  He grunts and pants in perfect rhythm with each pulsating stream as they land on my thigh, my stomach and my chest.


My heart is still racing from my own orgasm but that was just so fucking hot…I have to kiss him.  “Holy shit, Justin,” I say in between labored breaths then I gather all my strength to reach up to him and our lips crush together in one hell of an intense kiss.


We pull away from the kiss still panting and as we rest with our foreheads pressed together, we’re both smiling.  “That was so fucking hot,” I tell him, like I said I would from now on.  And just like I suspected, he pulls his head back, blushes, grins and covers his face with his hands.  It’s just so fucking sweet…and sexy as hell.


I pull his hands away from his face and twist my head to capture his eyes.  He follows my look as he raises his head.  I’m still smiling and he’s just so sweet but I can’t resist.  While his eyes are locked on mine, I shift my eyes down to my body, cock an eyebrow then shift them back to his…


He just smiles back at me and with that innocent but cocky tone in his voice he says, “What?  Better you than the duvet, right?” 


He just amazes me.  He does get it.  He does understand.  So I laugh, grab his shoulders and push him down on the bed flat on his back.  I crawl on top of him and stretch out, squishing his cum between us and smearing it all around.  It’s kind of yucky in that nasty, sexy way, but that’s how we are.  His fingers start lightly scratching up and down my back and I lean in for another kiss then move my mouth right next to his ear to whisper, “I’m going to fuck you all night long.”


“Yessss!” he says, dragging the ‘s’ to make a hissing sound.  His fingernails dig into my back and he bites down on my earlobe.   


I’m so fucking hard…AGAIN!  ‘How did he do this?’  I wonder, and all I can think about is that Justin is soooo fucking good at sucking my cock…and I realize, just like that, I’ve put a caboose on my thinking train.  Suddenly all the cars go swooshing past me backwards…to the beginning…to what started it all…


Disappointing looks…Signals and tricks…Before FF/After FF…Giving compliments…Confidence and insecurities…Justin’s blushing…Strong-man and the circus…Vacuums and sucking…Tightness and nursing…Plastic sheets and couches…New linens and dry cleaning duvets…Licking droplets of cum…Justin’s “clitoris”…Bathtub toys and cum races…Justin’s wet body…Famous showers…Deep Throat…Straight porn nausea…Justin’s technique…Body secrets...First blowjob...Blowjobs and Justin thinking trains…Blowjobs and thinking about ad campaigns…Thinking trains and backtracking…Random trains of thought…


To the engine…Justin is soooo fucking good at giving head…what was my mind trying to tell me with this train?


Something I already know deep down inside, Justin’s in all my thoughts now, he belongs with me, there’s no one better for me, and I smile.   


He smiles back at me like he knows.  He understands and reaches up to me.  He tries to tell me just that when he sticks his tongue in my mouth.  He doesn’t wait for permission, he just pushes through, and I let him cause I understand too. 


Once the initial jolt of ecstasy wears off and the rhythm sets in, I get comfortable, I can’t help myself.  I love kissing him.  The warmth of having his mouth surrounding mine.  The stroke of his tongue entangled with mine.  My mind just wanders off… I start thinking, shit he is so fucking good at this…
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