Indian Gay Sex Story of a Dark Rainy Night: 2
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Strangers gay story: I was sitting on the wooden bed wrapped in Rajesh’s blanket, my head resting against the wall. I was still shivering from the cold. My teeth were letting out an occasional but discernible rattle.
Rajesh put on the gas stove that lit up the room even more. Now I could see his brown moist skin glistening in the faint glow of the stove.
I could make out the sharp toned curves of his chest covered with dense curly hair running off into the treasure trail that vanished into the underwear, barely sufficient to hold his large package and cover his tight butt.
Onwards it led to hairy toned thighs and calves. The curves of his shoulders and toned biceps lured me to his armpits from where thick curls were peeping out blissfully.
Arm led to a strong elbow that led to a strong forearm boasting of its own mat of curls. The glow of the gas stove was abruptly cut off when he kept a utensil to boil water for tea; all the while oblivious of I scanning him in those extra seconds of light.
I noticed him adjusting his package twice. It was perhaps because he wanted to take a piss. In the corner beyond the cooking table, there was a small basic uncovered bathroom separated by a short 3 feet wall (typical one in low cost Indian studio apartments).
Once the water was set to boil, he went to the bathroom corner, looked at me, slightly smiled, unhesitantly pulled down the underwear to his knees and squatted down to take a piss.
That was the moment of glory for me. He was well-hung. His cut tool was peeping out of a dense bush which I was anyway expecting, as also his hairy tight butt.
My heart was in my mouth, eyes fixated on this love God, I was greedily collecting all the memories to cherish. His head lurched back in satisfaction with the rapids of his piss stream hitting on the bathroom floor, leaving an audible signature for my hungry ears.
Done with it, he got up, pulled up his underwear and cleaned up, giving me another opportunity to relish. While he stepped back to the gas stove, I could see a wet spot on his underwear caused by the dribble.
The gas stove went off. I could hear the incessant rain with my heart still pounding out of excitement and countless desires.
“Sir, take this. You will feel better”, he said, handing over a cup of ginger tea to me. That is all that he had said after such a long time. He sat beside me at the edge of the bed.
We were sipping tea without exchanging words. My eyes were following the contours of his strong v-shaped back and curved shoulders. I felt like touching him, hugging him and running my hand through the thick curly hair on his head.
He was looking toward the floor into darkness, making me wonder what he was thinking.
We finished the tea. It was my turn to take the piss. I did the same, but he didn’t even look towards me. Had I imagined things? Was he teasing me?
All sorts of thoughts stormed my mind. I felt like I had lost the opportunity even before it presented itself.
“Sir, when you are done, let us sleep. You shift inside and leave me some space. I will finish a few things and join you”.
It would have been too naive to expect us not sharing the bed and the blanket and him sleeping on the cold floor. I slept by the inner edge of the bed looking at the ceiling, waiting for him to join me.
The storm in my head had changed directions – will he or he won’t? Should I or not? Is this a new opportunity? Why do I want him so desperately? Should I ask him? What if he kicks me out?
Didn’t even check what he was doing. My thoughts were broken only with the creaking sound of the wooden bed when he slipped into the blanket.
He had put out the candle and I was barely able to see anything in the dark, just that I could feel his warm body touching my right side and hear his deep strong breaths.
For the first time, I got a whiff of his manly scent which added another dimension of desire.
The bed was a tad bit narrow for both of us. He pulled up his hands below his head, pushed on me a bit more, squeezing me against the wall. He was in an authoritative position and I liked it.
My right hand was now completely touching his left side. I was relishing the feel of his bare warm body against my arm. His butt was pressing against the outside of my palm.
I wanted more. I was intoxicated by the muskiness released from his fully exposed armpits. I was going mad.
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We remained laid on the bed. I was intermittently shaking even though I had a cup of hot tea. It was not enough.
“Sir, are you ok?” he asked, perhaps he was checking me out…
“I’m fine.”
Few minutes must have passed? Don’t know. Had lost the passage of time. I was shaking again, a bit more this time.
“Sir, are you really ok?”… he asked…
TO BE CONTINUED…