- Joined
- Jul 13, 2015
the fucking skeleton war will probably happen before len truly stops posting in this thread
Lolcow Leonard F. Shaner Jr. - Autistic Pedophile / Foamer / Shitlord
- Thread starter Zim
- Start date
- Status
- Joined
- Jun 19, 2015
I'll spring for a crate of single malt 18y if he gets put in hoosegow.
- Joined
- Feb 5, 2015
That's what @Schuylkill Valley said about Jim Kaufman last night.
Brokeback Railroad by Saul Goodman said:
Brokeback Railroad
A novel by Saul Goodman.
Lenny's glass swayed in his suddenly nerveless fingers. It was over a month ago that Kaufman had cornered him in Garden Supplies and since then, to Lenny's consternation, there had been few opportunities for him to approach the topic of proper shagging. He had indulged in copious fantasies and self-help, choosing to wait even when he felt like his head would explode from being in a state of constant arousal around Kaufman. He had wanted Kaufman to come to him . . . and now it seemed that he finally had.
"Jesus, Jim," Lenny said unsteadily and cleared his throat. "Please don't . . ." he began and then trailed off, not knowing what he had been about to say. All blood had escaped his brain.
Kaufman gave Lenny a wicked look. "That would be a no, then?"
With utmost care, Lenny set his glass aside and stood, his heart suddenly hammering in his throat. He took off his glasses, set them on the table between the chairs, and pulled off his stained t-shirt. Shivering under the heated, intense look that came to Kaufman's black eyes, he straddled Kaufman's legs.
"I shit my pants to get off the job early, so this seems to be all the work I have tonight," Lenny said and shimmied closer, grinding his cock against Kaufman's hip. "Hard or otherwise."
"Oh. How splendid, Mr. Shaner."
Lenny inhaled unsteadily. Kaufman's hands were mapping his sides, counting ribs and being generally very, very distracting. The corners of his mouth started to whiten up a bit. "You said you liked me foaming. Is this foaming enough for you?" Lenny asked, brushing loose strands of hair away from Kaufman's face; his black gaze was bringing up gooseflesh wherever it touched -- across his bare chest, along his shoulders, lingering at his nipples.
"It's an admirable effort," was Kaufman's answer, hot breath rushing across Lenny collarbone as he leaned in closer. Lenny felt Kaufman's lips and tongue on his nipple and then teeth that bit off white sparks and robbed him of all higher brain function.
Clasping Kaufman's head against his chest, Lenny arched his back. "Ohh . . . oh God," he moaned. "Oh, you bastard. . . . that feels, ah . . ."
With one last lick, Kaufman released his nipple and looked up. "Do you still want to show me your train videos or do you have something else in mind?" he said and brushed over Lenny's wet nipples with his thumbnails.
"I can't think of anything that could be better than what you're doing," Lenny breathed, swaying. His hands tangled in Kaufman's fusty, oily hair. "Anything you'd like. The world is your oyster,” said Lenny as he bent down for a kiss.
For a long, blissful moment, his world was Kaufman's mouth and the hard hands on his distended cock; his jorts felt increasingly uncomfortable. He tugged on Kaufman's collar, but he was distracted from his intentions by the strong hands that gripped his hips and by Kaufman's tongue doing all manner of wicked, delightful things as it tangled with his.
With a grunt, Kaufman stood and, while opening his collar, he nudged Lenny's legs apart with the tip of his boot. Lenny obliged by spreading his legs wider, his breath hitching when the hard edge of the sole skated along the insides of his thighs. The hard, square tip of Kaufman's boot came to rest on his perineum, perilously close to his balls, and Lenny pressed down against it. It made new waves of pleasant ache flare in his balls.
When finally done with his buttons, Kaufman crouched and straddled Lenny's hips. He seated himself right over the bulge in Lenny's pants and Lenny squeaked in protest, tugging at the hem of Kaufman's shirt in a feeble display of annoyance.
"You need stop that or else I'm going to come right here," said Lenny, his voice coming out strangled. "And that's not quite how I planned this to go."
Indeed, his willpower and thoughts of Bob Lowe banning him from the Colebrookdale Railroad were all that stood between him and the ruin of his jorts; the sight of Kaufman's long, pale fingers methodically rolling up his sleeves was strangely, obscenely erotic and the damn bastard kept shifting his hips over Lenny's erection.
"To expedite matters, you could of course assist," Kaufman said, cocking an eyebrow.
Lenny didn't need to be told twice. He reached for the crotch of Kaufman's pants, deliberately brushing his fingers against his cock. He couldn't wait to get to it; the thought made his blood to boil.
Lenny fumbled with Kaufman’s zipper until he found skin. "Oh. My. No underwear, Jim?"
Kaufman's eyes glazed over. "That's -- Oh, Jesus," he breathed, his hands coming to rest on Lenny's shoulders.
Lenny himself was quite beyond words, his head thrown back and his eyes closed as he felt along the hot, velvet length of Kaufman's cock within the confines of his pants. It was the most erotic experience he could remember -- hearing the labored pace of Kaufman's breathing and feeling the rapid pulse when he closed his hand around the shaft; the rasp of fabric against flesh and the shifting of Kaufman's hips against his made desire pool in his abdomen.
With a desperate hiss, Kaufman pulled Lenny's hand away and brought it to his lips. Lenny's eyes flew open when one and then two of his fingers were sucked into the heat of Kaufman's mouth, that evil, wondrous tongue doing unspeakable things to both the webbing between his fingers and his libido. Sitting up, Lenny replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking on Kaufman's tongue. The groan that came from deep within Kaufman's chest all but melted Lenny's bones and he attacked Kaufman's robes with newfound vigor.
Through a confusion of bruising kisses, wandering hands and the numerous teasing sorties Kaufman's fingers made to various erogenous zones Lenny hadn't known he had, he was finally able to push the robes up around Kaufman's waist. By then, Lenny was breathing in pained, whining gasps, his chest heaving as Kaufman sucked and bit the skin at the hollow of his throat. He dug his fingers into Kaufman's thighs.
"Oh—oh, god, Jim," Lenny moaned, shivering as Kaufman's teeth grazed along his collarbone. "Off," he finally managed, guiding the tempting mouth back to his for a long, lingering kiss. "Off," he repeated when he pulled back.
"You wanted something, Lenny?" Kaufman drawled, voice low and thick. His eyes held something so very curious and arousing that again, Lenny had to start mentally naming all his sock puppets alphabetically in order to regain some of his brainpower.
"Off," Lenny said and cleared his throat. "Off. Your clothes. That trucker hat. Now," he said, louder, and tugged at Kaufman's sleeve for emphasis.
"Very well."
As Kaufman stood up and attended to his boots, Lenny kicked off his trainers and squirmed out of his remaining clothes in about two seconds. He tossed his jorts towards a chair and turned back to Kaufman.
A trail of black hair ran down from Kaufman's navel and Lenny tentatively approached and nosed through it, inhaling the heady scent of musk and the smell of something ozonous and acrid that clung to Kaufman's skin. The hand in his hair tightened again and when he moved his hands to Kaufman's thighs, Lenny found the muscles there were trembling.
"You’re such a . . . oh . . . such a tease," said Kaufman's low, breathless voice from above him.
Lenny glanced up. Kaufman had grasped the mantelpiece with one hand and was now holding on as if it were the only thing keeping him from collapsing. Flashing a brief smile, Lenny ran his tongue up the shaft of Kaufman's cock. It felt alive and impatient under his touch, aching.
"Of course I am," he said and slid his mouth over the cock, so deep he could feel the head nudge the back of his throat. Kaufman's legs trembled and Lenny heard a heartfelt groan vibrate through his body and the hard flesh in his mouth.
Sliding further down the shaft was difficult but he managed it as best as he could, relaxing his throat and then swallowing against the gag reflex. Each swallow resulted in a new sort of delightful sound from Kaufman, whose hand was now twisting the hell out of his hair, and Lenny tasted something salty and vitriolic at the back of his tongue. The taste made him hum in delight.
With a sudden, violent yank, Kaufman pulled Lenny off his cock. "What?" Lenny protested, working his stiffened jaw. "I was enjoying that."
"A fair word of, ah, warning," Kaufman said, panting, his eyes gleaming with want as he looked down at Lenny. "You need to stop that or else the sodomy part of the evening will be unavoidably delayed."
Lenny's cock twitched with desperation at the deep, dark rasp in Kaufman's voice. With a growl, he grasped Kaufman's wrist and pulled him down to the floor. Limbs tangling in heat and Kaufman's hands hard and fast in his hair, Lenny sucked on a spot on the curve of Kaufman's neck that seemed to prompt the most delightful, breathless moans from the other man. Kaufman hissed and twisted. His revenge was to chew on Lenny's nipple while his hand found Lenny's cock; Lenny heard a loud, keening noise and discovered it was he who was making the sound.
"Nuh," he breathed, backing away. "Don't, ah, want to come . . . oh, God . . . yet."
Kaufman let go of his nipple long enough to lick a long trail up Lenny's sternum and bite down on his shoulder. "Oh, why not?" he asked between bites, his hand still doing maddening things to Lenny's cock.
Lenny backed away but Kaufman followed him, crawling on top of him while his mouth meandered down to bite Lenny's other nipple.
"Not . . . ah, not fair! God . . ."
"When have I ever been known to be fair?"
Lenny felt as much as heard the words against his chest. He could also feel Kaufman's smile on his skin, wet and sinister, right before the grip on his cock loosened. His reprieve was short-lived, however: Kaufman proceeded to run his blunt fingernails over Lenny's balls. Again, Lenny found himself squirming backwards, hands tugging at Kaufman's hair and incoherent sounds of despair crooning deep in his throat. His body was alive with want, urgent and white-hot.
Finally, Lenny couldn't retreat any further. He was practically sitting in Kaufman's lap with his back against the chair, one elbow wedged between the seat cushion and an armrest and the back of his head almost touching the cushion as Kaufman sucked on his nipples. His teeth were sharp and produced just the right blend of pain and pleasure.
"Ah, Jim . . . you need to fuck me now, or I'll explode." Lenny gasped as Kaufman reached down between them. His touch skittered along Lenny's throbbing cock, teasing. "Mmmh, right now," he croaked.
Kaufman pulled away and reached for his pants.
Lenny's confusion changed into a bolt of white-hot heat that ran through him when he saw Kaufman extract a small glass vial of lube from the back pocket. The fluid inside the vial was golden and scented with cloves; it felt warm against his skin when Kaufman drew a gleaming path with it across his stomach. Fascinated and aroused beyond belief, his breath coming in harsh gasps, Lenny watched the slow meandering of Kaufman's fingers, pale and delicate against his stomach. When the fingers trailed their wet heat across his balls and then down his perineum, Lenny lost all will to keep his eyes open.
For long, blissful moments, Kaufman's fingers lingered on his ass. Lenny's hips shifted and his hands clenched around any available target -- the chair's cushion, Kaufman's shoulder and hair, his own head -- to the rhythm set by the teasing fingers. After a while, though, even that was not enough.
"More," he breathed, his head lolling back. Jesus, but it felt good, all of it -- the fingers, Kaufman's breath on his chest, the incendiary warmth of the body between his legs. "More, Jim . . . oh, now," he moaned. "Please!"
And with that, Kaufman's teasing finger eased past the tight ring of muscle. Lenny’s eyes were in danger of rolling back in his head; had his life depended on complete sentences, he couldn't have managed anything beyond the formless syllables and moans he was making. One finger became two and soon they were both brushing over that spot inside him that made him see stars. Lenny didn't even notice the third finger or that he was making enough noise to wake the dead.
"Ah, more, Jim," he groaned and opened his eyes with effort. When he twisted to look, eyes open to devour the look of want and concentration in Kaufman's black eyes, Lenny pushed down on the fingers in him. "More. You. Now."
With a low growl, Kaufman shook Lenny's hand away from his hair, shifted his grip on his hip, and pulled away the fingers. They were replaced by something blunt and far heavier and for a fleeting moment, Lenny felt breathless panic. He'd done this a few times, sometimes successfully, but he couldn't recall attempting anything as large as Kaufman's cock. It didn't matter to him at that moment, though; all he wanted was more of Kaufman in him and on him.
Lenny panted and squirmed in Kaufman's iron grip. He wanted to bear down on the growing pressure on his ass; it was teasing and frightening at the same time. "Just . . . oh, God, please," he gasped. "I want you now . . . please, oh please . . ."
And with that, the slick head of Kaufman's cock pushed in. Oh, but it hurt. Lenny closed his eyes, breathing heavily through the burning, tearing pain. He could swear he was being split in two; he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted this. With a gasp, he pushed and slid down, prompting a strangled groan from Kaufman.
"Jesus, Lenny," he said. Lenny could hear the clenched teeth in his voice. "That's . . . tight."
With a huff of pain and laughter, Lenny flexed his legs again and slid further down. The burning pain was transforming into burning . . . something. It was still pain but also pleasure, with pleasure winning when Kaufman leaned forward and moved his hips. Lenny's cock was trapped between their shifting bodies, teased by the coarse hair on Kaufman's abdomen and his own, and he groaned in relief as he slid even further down on the cock impaling him.
"It feels wonderful," Lenny said languorously, sliding his hands along the hard, angled planes of Kaufman's back. "You feel . . . oh, God," he moaned, unable to breathe for a moment as Kaufman slid in and out. "You feel wonderful. Oh, Jesus, that's . . .”
Kaufman managed no answer save for a pained groan against his neck. When he shifted his hips and found a most delicious angle, however, even Lenny lost his capability to speak. The pain became incidental, peripheral.
With Kaufman's hand grasping his hip and his hands scrambling for leverage on Kaufman's shoulders, they found a rhythm that bumped Lenny's shoulder against the chair on every thrust. Lenny didn't even feel it because Kaufman's other hand had found his neglected prick and was making a quick job of any last doubt Lenny might have entertained about not loving absolutely every loud, slippery, savage moment of Kaufman fucking him. Each thrust made his insides burn and drove his cock through the slick sheath of Kaufman's fingers in a point and counterpoint that was nothing short of divine.
It didn't take long for the combined assault on his cock and prostate to result in Lenny meeting every thrust with enthusiasm, a tight pleasure blooming in his abdomen. He tried to make words to convey it but all he managed was a loud, keening sound; at the last moment, he opened his eyes and yanked Kaufman's head up.
He came harder than he'd done in a long while, staring into the black pools of Kaufman's eyes as his cock jerked and his insides seemed to turn into metal. Lenny groaned, his voice alien to his own ears; there was nothing but the breathless, bright fall of his orgasm, the cock inside him and the deep abyss into which he stared through it all.
He came back to himself shivering and panting, his stomach sticky with his come and warm from the body pressed into him. Kaufman was still moving inside him, slowly, and his breath was but pained gasps. Lenny lifted a shaking hand to brush aside hair that had fallen into Kaufman's eyes.
"Let go, Jim," Lenny whispered through his afterglow, his voice hoarse. "Let go."
Kaufman exhaled between clenched teeth and bodily lifted Lenny into the chair. Crouched over Lenny's contorted body, he grasped Lenny's leg and the back of the chair and shoved his cock in so hard Lenny thought it was going to come out of his mouth. He braced with his arms on the cushion and met Kaufman's thrusts the best he could, moaning at every savage jab. His traitorous cock was regaining an interest in the proceedings as well.
"God, Jim," Lenny gasped between thrusts. He sank his fingernails into Kaufman's arm; his prostate was being poked with ruthless efficiency. "You, ah, are a relentless, ah, bastard."
Though Kaufman was apparently beyond words, his low growls took on a new timbre. After a few more thrusts, he bent down and captured Lenny's mouth in a panting, open-mouthed, sloppy kiss and groaned into it. Lenny felt the sound vibrate deep into his own chest, even as the cock inside him hardened even more; Lenny bit down on Kaufman's lower lip, wanting more of him, anything, more words to say how wonderful it felt.
Kaufman thrust one last time and came with a long, primal hiss, body tensed and trembling. When his moan died away, apparently the rest of his muscle power did, too: he crashed ungracefully down onto Lenny. Letting go of Kaufman's lip, Lenny turned his head and breathed in great gasps, winded by the sudden weight on him. He wrapped his arms around Kaufman's shivering frame, feeling Kaufman's ribcage expand and contract underneath his palms; when he brushed down the back of Kaufman's thigh with his calf, he felt the softening length of Kaufman's cock slip from inside him. Lenny sighed at the loss and slid both of them down onto the floor.
After a moment, Kaufman rolled onto his back and laid an arm across his eyes. "That was . . ." he croaked, still winded.
Lenny smiled and laid on his side, head propped up on one arm. "Amazing. Better than stealing train parts off the 565. That’s what that was."
"Mmm."
"Again?"
A novel by Saul Goodman.
Lenny's glass swayed in his suddenly nerveless fingers. It was over a month ago that Kaufman had cornered him in Garden Supplies and since then, to Lenny's consternation, there had been few opportunities for him to approach the topic of proper shagging. He had indulged in copious fantasies and self-help, choosing to wait even when he felt like his head would explode from being in a state of constant arousal around Kaufman. He had wanted Kaufman to come to him . . . and now it seemed that he finally had.
"Jesus, Jim," Lenny said unsteadily and cleared his throat. "Please don't . . ." he began and then trailed off, not knowing what he had been about to say. All blood had escaped his brain.
Kaufman gave Lenny a wicked look. "That would be a no, then?"
With utmost care, Lenny set his glass aside and stood, his heart suddenly hammering in his throat. He took off his glasses, set them on the table between the chairs, and pulled off his stained t-shirt. Shivering under the heated, intense look that came to Kaufman's black eyes, he straddled Kaufman's legs.
"I shit my pants to get off the job early, so this seems to be all the work I have tonight," Lenny said and shimmied closer, grinding his cock against Kaufman's hip. "Hard or otherwise."
"Oh. How splendid, Mr. Shaner."
Lenny inhaled unsteadily. Kaufman's hands were mapping his sides, counting ribs and being generally very, very distracting. The corners of his mouth started to whiten up a bit. "You said you liked me foaming. Is this foaming enough for you?" Lenny asked, brushing loose strands of hair away from Kaufman's face; his black gaze was bringing up gooseflesh wherever it touched -- across his bare chest, along his shoulders, lingering at his nipples.
"It's an admirable effort," was Kaufman's answer, hot breath rushing across Lenny collarbone as he leaned in closer. Lenny felt Kaufman's lips and tongue on his nipple and then teeth that bit off white sparks and robbed him of all higher brain function.
Clasping Kaufman's head against his chest, Lenny arched his back. "Ohh . . . oh God," he moaned. "Oh, you bastard. . . . that feels, ah . . ."
With one last lick, Kaufman released his nipple and looked up. "Do you still want to show me your train videos or do you have something else in mind?" he said and brushed over Lenny's wet nipples with his thumbnails.
"I can't think of anything that could be better than what you're doing," Lenny breathed, swaying. His hands tangled in Kaufman's fusty, oily hair. "Anything you'd like. The world is your oyster,” said Lenny as he bent down for a kiss.
For a long, blissful moment, his world was Kaufman's mouth and the hard hands on his distended cock; his jorts felt increasingly uncomfortable. He tugged on Kaufman's collar, but he was distracted from his intentions by the strong hands that gripped his hips and by Kaufman's tongue doing all manner of wicked, delightful things as it tangled with his.
With a grunt, Kaufman stood and, while opening his collar, he nudged Lenny's legs apart with the tip of his boot. Lenny obliged by spreading his legs wider, his breath hitching when the hard edge of the sole skated along the insides of his thighs. The hard, square tip of Kaufman's boot came to rest on his perineum, perilously close to his balls, and Lenny pressed down against it. It made new waves of pleasant ache flare in his balls.
When finally done with his buttons, Kaufman crouched and straddled Lenny's hips. He seated himself right over the bulge in Lenny's pants and Lenny squeaked in protest, tugging at the hem of Kaufman's shirt in a feeble display of annoyance.
"You need stop that or else I'm going to come right here," said Lenny, his voice coming out strangled. "And that's not quite how I planned this to go."
Indeed, his willpower and thoughts of Bob Lowe banning him from the Colebrookdale Railroad were all that stood between him and the ruin of his jorts; the sight of Kaufman's long, pale fingers methodically rolling up his sleeves was strangely, obscenely erotic and the damn bastard kept shifting his hips over Lenny's erection.
"To expedite matters, you could of course assist," Kaufman said, cocking an eyebrow.
Lenny didn't need to be told twice. He reached for the crotch of Kaufman's pants, deliberately brushing his fingers against his cock. He couldn't wait to get to it; the thought made his blood to boil.
Lenny fumbled with Kaufman’s zipper until he found skin. "Oh. My. No underwear, Jim?"
Kaufman's eyes glazed over. "That's -- Oh, Jesus," he breathed, his hands coming to rest on Lenny's shoulders.
Lenny himself was quite beyond words, his head thrown back and his eyes closed as he felt along the hot, velvet length of Kaufman's cock within the confines of his pants. It was the most erotic experience he could remember -- hearing the labored pace of Kaufman's breathing and feeling the rapid pulse when he closed his hand around the shaft; the rasp of fabric against flesh and the shifting of Kaufman's hips against his made desire pool in his abdomen.
With a desperate hiss, Kaufman pulled Lenny's hand away and brought it to his lips. Lenny's eyes flew open when one and then two of his fingers were sucked into the heat of Kaufman's mouth, that evil, wondrous tongue doing unspeakable things to both the webbing between his fingers and his libido. Sitting up, Lenny replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking on Kaufman's tongue. The groan that came from deep within Kaufman's chest all but melted Lenny's bones and he attacked Kaufman's robes with newfound vigor.
Through a confusion of bruising kisses, wandering hands and the numerous teasing sorties Kaufman's fingers made to various erogenous zones Lenny hadn't known he had, he was finally able to push the robes up around Kaufman's waist. By then, Lenny was breathing in pained, whining gasps, his chest heaving as Kaufman sucked and bit the skin at the hollow of his throat. He dug his fingers into Kaufman's thighs.
"Oh—oh, god, Jim," Lenny moaned, shivering as Kaufman's teeth grazed along his collarbone. "Off," he finally managed, guiding the tempting mouth back to his for a long, lingering kiss. "Off," he repeated when he pulled back.
"You wanted something, Lenny?" Kaufman drawled, voice low and thick. His eyes held something so very curious and arousing that again, Lenny had to start mentally naming all his sock puppets alphabetically in order to regain some of his brainpower.
"Off," Lenny said and cleared his throat. "Off. Your clothes. That trucker hat. Now," he said, louder, and tugged at Kaufman's sleeve for emphasis.
"Very well."
As Kaufman stood up and attended to his boots, Lenny kicked off his trainers and squirmed out of his remaining clothes in about two seconds. He tossed his jorts towards a chair and turned back to Kaufman.
A trail of black hair ran down from Kaufman's navel and Lenny tentatively approached and nosed through it, inhaling the heady scent of musk and the smell of something ozonous and acrid that clung to Kaufman's skin. The hand in his hair tightened again and when he moved his hands to Kaufman's thighs, Lenny found the muscles there were trembling.
"You’re such a . . . oh . . . such a tease," said Kaufman's low, breathless voice from above him.
Lenny glanced up. Kaufman had grasped the mantelpiece with one hand and was now holding on as if it were the only thing keeping him from collapsing. Flashing a brief smile, Lenny ran his tongue up the shaft of Kaufman's cock. It felt alive and impatient under his touch, aching.
"Of course I am," he said and slid his mouth over the cock, so deep he could feel the head nudge the back of his throat. Kaufman's legs trembled and Lenny heard a heartfelt groan vibrate through his body and the hard flesh in his mouth.
Sliding further down the shaft was difficult but he managed it as best as he could, relaxing his throat and then swallowing against the gag reflex. Each swallow resulted in a new sort of delightful sound from Kaufman, whose hand was now twisting the hell out of his hair, and Lenny tasted something salty and vitriolic at the back of his tongue. The taste made him hum in delight.
With a sudden, violent yank, Kaufman pulled Lenny off his cock. "What?" Lenny protested, working his stiffened jaw. "I was enjoying that."
"A fair word of, ah, warning," Kaufman said, panting, his eyes gleaming with want as he looked down at Lenny. "You need to stop that or else the sodomy part of the evening will be unavoidably delayed."
Lenny's cock twitched with desperation at the deep, dark rasp in Kaufman's voice. With a growl, he grasped Kaufman's wrist and pulled him down to the floor. Limbs tangling in heat and Kaufman's hands hard and fast in his hair, Lenny sucked on a spot on the curve of Kaufman's neck that seemed to prompt the most delightful, breathless moans from the other man. Kaufman hissed and twisted. His revenge was to chew on Lenny's nipple while his hand found Lenny's cock; Lenny heard a loud, keening noise and discovered it was he who was making the sound.
"Nuh," he breathed, backing away. "Don't, ah, want to come . . . oh, God . . . yet."
Kaufman let go of his nipple long enough to lick a long trail up Lenny's sternum and bite down on his shoulder. "Oh, why not?" he asked between bites, his hand still doing maddening things to Lenny's cock.
Lenny backed away but Kaufman followed him, crawling on top of him while his mouth meandered down to bite Lenny's other nipple.
"Not . . . ah, not fair! God . . ."
"When have I ever been known to be fair?"
Lenny felt as much as heard the words against his chest. He could also feel Kaufman's smile on his skin, wet and sinister, right before the grip on his cock loosened. His reprieve was short-lived, however: Kaufman proceeded to run his blunt fingernails over Lenny's balls. Again, Lenny found himself squirming backwards, hands tugging at Kaufman's hair and incoherent sounds of despair crooning deep in his throat. His body was alive with want, urgent and white-hot.
Finally, Lenny couldn't retreat any further. He was practically sitting in Kaufman's lap with his back against the chair, one elbow wedged between the seat cushion and an armrest and the back of his head almost touching the cushion as Kaufman sucked on his nipples. His teeth were sharp and produced just the right blend of pain and pleasure.
"Ah, Jim . . . you need to fuck me now, or I'll explode." Lenny gasped as Kaufman reached down between them. His touch skittered along Lenny's throbbing cock, teasing. "Mmmh, right now," he croaked.
Kaufman pulled away and reached for his pants.
Lenny's confusion changed into a bolt of white-hot heat that ran through him when he saw Kaufman extract a small glass vial of lube from the back pocket. The fluid inside the vial was golden and scented with cloves; it felt warm against his skin when Kaufman drew a gleaming path with it across his stomach. Fascinated and aroused beyond belief, his breath coming in harsh gasps, Lenny watched the slow meandering of Kaufman's fingers, pale and delicate against his stomach. When the fingers trailed their wet heat across his balls and then down his perineum, Lenny lost all will to keep his eyes open.
For long, blissful moments, Kaufman's fingers lingered on his ass. Lenny's hips shifted and his hands clenched around any available target -- the chair's cushion, Kaufman's shoulder and hair, his own head -- to the rhythm set by the teasing fingers. After a while, though, even that was not enough.
"More," he breathed, his head lolling back. Jesus, but it felt good, all of it -- the fingers, Kaufman's breath on his chest, the incendiary warmth of the body between his legs. "More, Jim . . . oh, now," he moaned. "Please!"
And with that, Kaufman's teasing finger eased past the tight ring of muscle. Lenny’s eyes were in danger of rolling back in his head; had his life depended on complete sentences, he couldn't have managed anything beyond the formless syllables and moans he was making. One finger became two and soon they were both brushing over that spot inside him that made him see stars. Lenny didn't even notice the third finger or that he was making enough noise to wake the dead.
"Ah, more, Jim," he groaned and opened his eyes with effort. When he twisted to look, eyes open to devour the look of want and concentration in Kaufman's black eyes, Lenny pushed down on the fingers in him. "More. You. Now."
With a low growl, Kaufman shook Lenny's hand away from his hair, shifted his grip on his hip, and pulled away the fingers. They were replaced by something blunt and far heavier and for a fleeting moment, Lenny felt breathless panic. He'd done this a few times, sometimes successfully, but he couldn't recall attempting anything as large as Kaufman's cock. It didn't matter to him at that moment, though; all he wanted was more of Kaufman in him and on him.
Lenny panted and squirmed in Kaufman's iron grip. He wanted to bear down on the growing pressure on his ass; it was teasing and frightening at the same time. "Just . . . oh, God, please," he gasped. "I want you now . . . please, oh please . . ."
And with that, the slick head of Kaufman's cock pushed in. Oh, but it hurt. Lenny closed his eyes, breathing heavily through the burning, tearing pain. He could swear he was being split in two; he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted this. With a gasp, he pushed and slid down, prompting a strangled groan from Kaufman.
"Jesus, Lenny," he said. Lenny could hear the clenched teeth in his voice. "That's . . . tight."
With a huff of pain and laughter, Lenny flexed his legs again and slid further down. The burning pain was transforming into burning . . . something. It was still pain but also pleasure, with pleasure winning when Kaufman leaned forward and moved his hips. Lenny's cock was trapped between their shifting bodies, teased by the coarse hair on Kaufman's abdomen and his own, and he groaned in relief as he slid even further down on the cock impaling him.
"It feels wonderful," Lenny said languorously, sliding his hands along the hard, angled planes of Kaufman's back. "You feel . . . oh, God," he moaned, unable to breathe for a moment as Kaufman slid in and out. "You feel wonderful. Oh, Jesus, that's . . .”
Kaufman managed no answer save for a pained groan against his neck. When he shifted his hips and found a most delicious angle, however, even Lenny lost his capability to speak. The pain became incidental, peripheral.
With Kaufman's hand grasping his hip and his hands scrambling for leverage on Kaufman's shoulders, they found a rhythm that bumped Lenny's shoulder against the chair on every thrust. Lenny didn't even feel it because Kaufman's other hand had found his neglected prick and was making a quick job of any last doubt Lenny might have entertained about not loving absolutely every loud, slippery, savage moment of Kaufman fucking him. Each thrust made his insides burn and drove his cock through the slick sheath of Kaufman's fingers in a point and counterpoint that was nothing short of divine.
It didn't take long for the combined assault on his cock and prostate to result in Lenny meeting every thrust with enthusiasm, a tight pleasure blooming in his abdomen. He tried to make words to convey it but all he managed was a loud, keening sound; at the last moment, he opened his eyes and yanked Kaufman's head up.
He came harder than he'd done in a long while, staring into the black pools of Kaufman's eyes as his cock jerked and his insides seemed to turn into metal. Lenny groaned, his voice alien to his own ears; there was nothing but the breathless, bright fall of his orgasm, the cock inside him and the deep abyss into which he stared through it all.
He came back to himself shivering and panting, his stomach sticky with his come and warm from the body pressed into him. Kaufman was still moving inside him, slowly, and his breath was but pained gasps. Lenny lifted a shaking hand to brush aside hair that had fallen into Kaufman's eyes.
"Let go, Jim," Lenny whispered through his afterglow, his voice hoarse. "Let go."
Kaufman exhaled between clenched teeth and bodily lifted Lenny into the chair. Crouched over Lenny's contorted body, he grasped Lenny's leg and the back of the chair and shoved his cock in so hard Lenny thought it was going to come out of his mouth. He braced with his arms on the cushion and met Kaufman's thrusts the best he could, moaning at every savage jab. His traitorous cock was regaining an interest in the proceedings as well.
"God, Jim," Lenny gasped between thrusts. He sank his fingernails into Kaufman's arm; his prostate was being poked with ruthless efficiency. "You, ah, are a relentless, ah, bastard."
Though Kaufman was apparently beyond words, his low growls took on a new timbre. After a few more thrusts, he bent down and captured Lenny's mouth in a panting, open-mouthed, sloppy kiss and groaned into it. Lenny felt the sound vibrate deep into his own chest, even as the cock inside him hardened even more; Lenny bit down on Kaufman's lower lip, wanting more of him, anything, more words to say how wonderful it felt.
Kaufman thrust one last time and came with a long, primal hiss, body tensed and trembling. When his moan died away, apparently the rest of his muscle power did, too: he crashed ungracefully down onto Lenny. Letting go of Kaufman's lip, Lenny turned his head and breathed in great gasps, winded by the sudden weight on him. He wrapped his arms around Kaufman's shivering frame, feeling Kaufman's ribcage expand and contract underneath his palms; when he brushed down the back of Kaufman's thigh with his calf, he felt the softening length of Kaufman's cock slip from inside him. Lenny sighed at the loss and slid both of them down onto the floor.
After a moment, Kaufman rolled onto his back and laid an arm across his eyes. "That was . . ." he croaked, still winded.
Lenny smiled and laid on his side, head propped up on one arm. "Amazing. Better than stealing train parts off the 565. That’s what that was."
"Mmm."
"Again?"
- Joined
- Apr 25, 2015
Trying to keep up with this thread:
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2015
I've seen through your ploy. You're just reposting that to farm me for Semper Fi ratings!
Leonard F. Shaner Jr.
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2015
Kirby
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2015
THIS IS NOT A PIG. THIS IS A KIRBY YOU IGNORANT NIGGER
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2013
Pigs are more intelligent than you, so why not?
- Joined
- Jun 19, 2015
Oh shit @Schuylkill Valley, you're fucked now.
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2015
congrats on the big 20k, comrade len-in
EDIT: this brings the big man to 67% of holden's negatives
EDIT: this brings the big man to 67% of holden's negatives
Attachments
Last edited:
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2015
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2014
So you didn't answer my WW2 gun question. Which gun from that war was your favorite?
Also, why not one for the Civil War, since you seem to have a like for that one (even if it's hilarious in retrospect based on your location and opinion on Dixie flag). What is the most interesting battle in your opinion? Mine was the Merrimack versus the Monitor.
Leonard F. Shaner Jr.
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2015
Ratings: 491/20005 so what does this mean?
Kirby
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2015
that you're a win
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2015
it means you have impressive amounts of autism
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
Means you're the biggest moron on the site.
- Joined
- Mar 25, 2015
He ran out of Bible votes to quote.
@Saul Goodman, I already scraped my brain out with a spoon twice.
No more please.
(In all honesty it is a well-written piece. It's just a well-written piece that makes my eyes curl back into their sockets.)
You didn't even pay your respects for Iwata, did you?
Disgusting.
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2013
It means you're one dumb motherfucker. One of the worst ever.
Leonard F. Shaner Jr.
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2015
I'm not up on the Civil war much. My Dad was, though.
- Joined
- May 30, 2014
I.... what?
- Status