Chapter 6 – Chapter 6

Reg3 came after dark Sunday night, entering the cabin through the back porch and the kitchen door. It was snowing again. He surprised me by entering in the back and was already half naked before reaching the living room. Again I had all of the lights on and a fire going in the fireplace. I had hoped to see his boots, but he'd left them in the kitchen. I did see his feet, though.

He laughed when he entered the living room, to find me standing there, naked, my dick in my fist. "So, you want me to fuck you in front of the fire, is that it?"

"No, I want you to fuck me in front of the window," I answered.

He gave me a strange look and a crooked smile, but he did as I asked for the first fucking—we both knew we'd want as many fucks as we could manage, he to affirm his virility to himself each time as age caught hold of him, and me because I was so needy and, admittedly, because I was worried about the onset of age as well.

He fucked me from behind, him standing and crouched behind me and me with the heels of my hands and the knees of my widespread legs pressed against the window glass. As I was nearing completion, he reached around, fisted my cock, and finished me off, my cum again splattering against the glass of the window. He took longer to come, but he did so finally, starting with a grunt and releasing me so that I could sink to the floor and offer him a cheek while he ripped the condom off and ejaculated on my face.

"You want to do it in front of the fire next?" I asked.

"No. I want to use the downstairs bedroom. I like the mattress in there better than upstairs."

I had in my mind the whole time that I would check the new-fallen snow the next morning for footprints. It hadn't been just a whim that I wanted to be fucked in front of the living room window. But, although I did check, and found what I was looking for, I didn't really need to check.

Reg3 fucked me on the master bedroom bed, with me on my back, pillows under the small of my back to elevate my buttocks to a deep penetration angle, and Reg3 kneeling between my spread and raised legs and holding my ankles up and out with his encircling fists. He was spending enough time leaning down to nip at my nipples as he fucked not to see what I could see—my head dangling over the far side of the bed, staring through the sliding glass doors out onto the darkened screened porch.

Tony standing here, on the porch, near the door, just inside the shadows, fisting and stroking his cock as he watched Reg3 fuck me.

I opened my mouth in a broad "O," exhibiting my willingness, my desire, to give Tony suck. He moved, briefly, closer to the glass, which he splattered with his cum before withdrawing into the shadows and fleeing the porch.

I had seen that Reg3's feet were regular sized and I didn't have to check out the soles of his boots. I did find the footprints in the new-fallen snow the next morning, both on the deck in front and leading up to and inside the porch in back. The size of Tony's feet; sole prints to match the pattern of Tony's boots. But I'd already seen what I needed to see to be sure of Tony now.

Still, I was a bit surprised Monday afternoon as I drove the Forester down the driveway—hopeful but until then not completely sure—to find Tony waiting at the bottom of the driveway. He was all bundled up in his forest-green coat and beside him, on the ground, was a pack of camping gear.

He raised his hand as I reached the bottom of the driveway, and I stopped and rolled down my window.

"I want you to drive me up to D.C.," he said. I didn't hear much in the way of request in his voice. The commanding tone aroused and exhilarated me.

"Where in D.C.?" I asked, my voice full of hope.

"You said you have a house and that you roomed guys from your gym sometimes. We can go there."

"You want to room with me for a while?"

"I got your message this weekend. No playing games here. You take cock, I know you want mine, and I want to fuck you into next week," Tony said with a growl.

There it was. That's what I wanted to hear. It was nice to hear it from Reg3. But this was best of all. I hadn't lost my interest in young hunks fucking me. I just wanted one who pitched me, who would take control of me.

"Climb in," I said, but then I clarified that as he was moving around to the passenger door. "Climb into the backseat."

"The backseat?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll take you to D.C.—and home—but I can't wait that long. I want you to fuck me right here, in the backseat of this car."

"Right out here?"

"I don't give a fuck who sees us doing it." I answered. "That is, if you don't," I continued, cautioning myself to let him control—knowing now that that was what I wanted from a man.

"Shit no, I don't care," he answered, opening my door, and, to my delight, manhandling me out of the front and into the back.

As I sat in his lap, our clothes only open enough to expose his thick, hard dick and my yielding channel, the car rocking up and down in the snow, he raised and lowered me on a divinely big cock and I ran my fingers through the thick, curly black hair of his head and turned my head up to the ceiling of the car to cry out my pleasure. I had already sucked his cock and found his pubic hair as thick and black and curly as I had imagined and his woodsy scent more intoxicating than ever before.

While he fucked me, I had the presence of mind to thank either Chuck or Steve again. They hadn't just recommended I get a four-wheel-drive vehicle, they'd also said that the Forester had better springs than any of the others in its class.