Whatever became of Jay, the young man with the horses from my story "Equestrian Afternoon"
Jay now has a profile image on the social media channel we use because he doesn't keep grindr on his phone. It shows himself and his partner in wedding suits (presumably their own?) looking suitably happy.
I have instructions not to contact him in case his "other half" sees the messages on his phone. So, like many a secret "Squeeze", I can't just call him up when I'm horny.
Happily, I'm not so starved of sexual encounters that I feel the need to contact him and until the pandemic, I have relished the occasional surprises he springs at short notice.
Months would go by, one time even six months and then a text message, without even the 20 minutes warning he'd promised, he's on the doorstep. I go to the door, he's there with his pants down, his fat throbbing cock, close to bursting point and his arse bare to the evening air. Happily, its already dark, I don't have a porch light and nobody else is going to see those glowing, downy, bubble-butt peaches.
I usher him into the kitchen, like a scene from a comedy porno, bend him over my butcher's block and dive head first into that gorgeous arse, all musky and hot from his day's work. A bit extreme? Well I was really hungry.
It was the beginning of the pandemic, the news was full of it but we're really isolated out here and few of our local community were seeing even immediate neighbours and nobody was travelling. Worse, nobody was making out!
As I mentioned before, Jay always gets a condom. He's used to them far more than I. These days, I might carry one in a pocket away from home but in the kitchen? As I blissfully chomp on that treasure trove of a hole, my mind is racing.
I remember a rucksack in the cupboard and in the front pocket of that, a steel cock ring I know he likes (way too late to get that on - I'm so hard now I could push my cock through a steel door to get into his hot body) a couple of condoms, probably well past their use by date and a small sachet of lube.
Whilst he is still moaning and dribbling his copious strand of pre-cum, I retrieve the bag, fumble the rubber into place, slick my knob end with a finger full of his cock nectar and poke it into his crevice.
"Slowly!" He hissed. "It's been a while."
"You're telling me!" Thinks I
I still my beating heart, reign back the charging stallion that is urging me for to bang this young man however much it hurts him and I lodge my rock hard, swollen, rubber clad glans at his lovely pink doorway and wait for him to push back up onto me, which he accomplishes in three gentle rocking motions of his butt.
I feel the head slip in and the wonderful sensation as his sphincter snaps greedily around its crown like a snare.
Once again he tenses with a shock of pain and puffs hard like an athlete pushing weights. Wow! He's got really, really tight, like he'd never been fucked before and it is a moment before he sighs and presses back towards me. Ever so slowly and deliberately sliding up the veined shank and my furry flesh. When my balls meet that sweet arse, he lets out a great sigh and all the tension in his powerful young body melts away. I twitched my cock a few times whilst it's deep down there at rock bottom and he responded with some twitches of his own.
After a meaningful pause, I pull back smoothly and sink back in to those wonderful hot guts of his and immediately, as if switched on, he starts bucking his hips in a rapid fire copulation, as if he was fucking a third party, under the table. I just let him get on with it and anyway, his motion is making it difficult for me to hold onto my load as I watched his beautiful rounded buttocks jiggle and rotate around my organ.
There is none of our accustomed foreplay, here is a man on a mission and, sadly, in a heated rush. It's only a matter of seconds, his breathing races and rasps from the exertion and from his obvious lust. A series of guttural groans along with the panting and I feel his guts clamp down on my throbbing cock.
He spits his seed out onto the kitchen floor in two blasts of thick syrup and then a long dribbling thread-like drool.
As his orgasm rocks him, I am helpless to hold back and slam my body down onto him as his internal muscles ripple along my cock shaft, milking every drop as if pumping me out.
He snatches himself away from me, pulls up his pants and heads for the door leaving me aghast. My cock, pendulous in space, the awful dangling tip, swinging, fully engorged with my jizz, my balls and prostate just beginning to buzz like a "fuel empty" warning.
"Sorry, Daddy! Gotta run. Thanks!"
I just stood there, slack jawed wondering "WTF?"
* * *
Total silence for over a year. We've had variant after variant of Covid-19 and never a text from Jay to say he's ok, or a "How are you?"
Much of that year, I've been grounded, like most people lucky enough not to be laid off, I'm mostly at home, very few visitors, social distancing, masks, inoculations. The gyms all closed during lockdown emergencies, I'm working out more at home, you know how it's been.
A comfortless time. Not seeing friends, not seeing lovers or only very occasionally.
Another married guy with whom I have a thing going, plucks up courage to meet (he runs a care home, so extra cautious). The pandemic is also keeping his partner at home, so no playtime for he and I there either. At least he keeps me in the loop, sends horny messages when he's longing to fuck and can't. I do likewise. It helps.
Then on Monday, this week, late afternoon, it's already dark outside, the January wind is howling. I haven't had a fuck since before the Christmas/New holiday, and that seems like forever ago, my hormones are driving me nuts. I'm sitting with my phone by the fire, thumbing through my extensive collection of porn images and gifs on Tusky and thinking about getting this awful load off. I decide to send a brief message to the lad with the horses. He's on my phone as Equine Jay. I've no idea what his family name is or even if his "Jay" is a given name, a pet name, whatever.
It's too late for a Happy New Year, which I'd refrained from sending at the appropriate time because of his instruction not to contact him. I figured, after our extraordinary episode last time, we was never going to contact me again. So, I had really nothing to lose by disobeying with a brief text.
"Haven't heard from you in over a year, Son. Hope you're well."
Nothing there for the partner to misconstrue, surely.
Only about 10 minutes later comes a reply.
