Tall Tale, Part 3

[Reeza]

I decided to continue posting relatively short sections of the story as I finish them, as long as there's a good place to break. I want to keep the momentum going for you guys. It's all about your needs . . .

Tall Tale
Part 1 : Part 2

TALL TALE - Part 3
by Reeza

Okay, I’m back. I can’t believe I’m smoking again, but I’ve been so agitated these last few days I don’t know what to do with myself. I haven’t slept much since . . . Yeah, I’m getting back to it, okay? Jeez! Why are you so impatient? Am I taking too much of your time, Dan? You know I could have called somebody else about this if I thought you'd be bored. I didn’t think so. Well, it’s a long story, so this could take a while. You’re the only person I’m telling this to and I want to make sure I don’t leave anything out. I keep going over it in my head and it’s driving me nuts, you know?

So he was holding me off the floor with one hand and I blew my load on his tee shirt, right along the bottom hem. Couldn’t help it - it just came out of me. You’d think, as scared as I was, that it wouldn’t work at all, but you would have to see this guy to understand. And I figured I would be dead soon, the way he looked at me. This all happened in less than a minute, I suppose. But like I said, I keep going over it in my head.

First he lifted me a little higher and then he dropped me, kind of rough. But I landed on my feet and stumbled to catch my balance. "Shit!" he said. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He held up the hem of his shirt to look at the moist splatter. "I barely touched you and you came already? I thought it took longer for guys your age!" Really annoyed, but not as angry as I expected. I thought maybe I would get away with just a beating.

"I am so sorry, man! I don’t know why that happened, I swear! I’m going to need to see a doctor or something. This never happened before. And . . . you know . . . you’re scaring the shit out of me!" I was actually sniveling. Something I never imagined myself doing.

"You should be scared, you puny fuck!" Okay, maybe he is angry. "This better not leave a stain, Greg! D’ya know how much it costs me to have these shirts made?" He started wiping my jizz with his thumb.

As I’m going over this in my head, I know some of the things he said didn’t seem to fit, you know? But at the time, none of this was sinking in. I was just so scared and confused that I couldn’t keep up with it all. I didn’t know whether to keep looking at him or turn away. Of course I wanted to look at him. And even now, I close my eyes and I picture him standing there, pissed off about the spot I made on his shirt. Of course his big dick is still hanging out of his pants. Those huge biceps keep tensing up and changing shape as he works on his shirt. The firm, fabric-covered globes of his chest really stand out from his rib cage, and his nipples are pointing down a little. Mmmmh!

He looked down towards his belt as his left hand lifted his shirt to expose his golden abs again. Sweet Jesus! He had a hard time seeing them over his pecs, so he had to crunch forward until he found what he was looking for: another spurt of my come just above the waistband of his jeans. I must have blown a bigger load than I thought. With his big right thumb, he slowly wiped his tanned skin from the right peak of his pelvic bone over to the trail of hair near his navel, collecting my come as he went. He growled, really deep, "You’re going to have to clean up your mess, Greg."

"Of course! Of course I will. What do you need?"

"Open your mouth, Greg." He stepped towards me and raised his right arm. Not what I was expecting.

"Uhhh, Dude, I . . ."

"Say my name, Greg."

"Paul! Sorry!" I tried to back up, but his long fingers were already touching the back of my head, his hot palm contacting my stubbled cheek.

"Now open your mouth, Greg." A soft growl. "Open it." Looking into my eyes.

I opened a little, and his big thumb with my come on it pressed against my lips and forced it’s way into my mouth. Tears welled up in my eyes again. He pressed his thumb against the inside of my cheek and then slowly, very slowly and gently, withdrew the thumb, leaving my come in the left side of my mouth. I closed my lips, moved my tongue, and swallowed. The tears ran down my cheeks. Why? I don’t know.

"Do you like the taste of your own come, faggot?" Purring. "Do you taste good?"

I didn’t answer. I just stood there. Perfectly still. Trying to keep my knees from buckling.

"Now give me your shirt."

I looked up at him. Dumbfounded. "My shirt?"

"You heard me. Give me your shirt, Greg." He reached towards me, palm up, but didn’t touch me. I noticed the veins on his wide forearm again, standing out against the muscle.

I protested meekly. "It won’t fit you, Paul."

He snorted derisively. "No shit, Greg! Puny fuck! Now give it to me!"

I must have hesitated a little too long. In one quick move he slid his fingers under the front neck band of my tee shirt and ripped it clean off my torso. "Ow!" My shoulders were burning. How did he do that?

He balled up my shirt and used it to wipe the remaining come off his lower abdomen. As he wiped, the fine blond hairs stuck to his skin and then freed themselves from the stickiness. The ab muscles bunched up and slid against each other as he bent forward. Not a trace of fat. Then he threw the ruined shirt back in my face.

He looked down at the spot on his shirt again. "Well, this is gonna have to come off." He crossed his massive arms in front of his torso, grabbed the opposite sides of the hem, and pulled the giant tee shirt up, off his shoulders, over his head, and off his arms.

Holy fuck! I had glimpsed the deep caverns of his armpits. Had a clear view of the mountain range of his shoulders. And his chest! The chest of Adonis, but bigger. With the same dusting of hair he had on his abdomen, maybe a little thicker. A dark crevasse between the two pecs. And his nipples. Big and prominent, deeper brown than his golden skin, with rings of fine hair around each one. It was too much at once. I couldn’t stay standing. So I slowly went down on my knees. But I never took my eyes off him.

"What’s the matter, Greg?" He smirked. "Haven’t you ever seen a guy with his shirt off before?"

"W . . . n . . . hh," I couldn’t form words.

"I bet you’ve seen a lot of guys with their shirts off, Greg. Maybe some of your buddies out there? But they don’t look like me, do they?"

I’d forgotten about my friends in the bar. As if on cue, there was a sound at the door, then a fist banging on it. I could hear the voice of my foreman, Jim. "What the fuck? The door won’t open!" More banging.

Paul put his finger up to his lips, indicating that I should stay quiet. He didn’t need to tell me. He whispered, "Should I open the door, Greg? Would you like that?" Sarcastic tone. "You want your buddies to see this? Both of us with our shirts off, and our dicks hanging out, and you on your knees in front of me? Bet it would take them a while to get that image out of their heads. Am I right, Greg?" He’s enjoying this.

I just shook my head from side to side, pleading with my eyes. Jim was still out there talking to someone else. "Didn’t Greg go in there? Where the hell is he?" Then footsteps, getting quieter as they went away from the door. I slumped with relief and put my face in my hands, trying to rub away the stress and the last couple of tears.

*****

To be continued . . . Tall Tale Part 4

[rairf]

Awesome chapter. The shorter posts make this feel like we're in a mental edging session

[geo07]

Great chapter! I love the little intro you did-it was hilarious! Not to mention the rest of the story, which was hot, but still kinda funny. You really have a knack for storytelling. I can't wait to see where this story goes next!