When he turns his back to me, I see a massive tattoo covering his entire back. It's black, on his bronze skin, and I can't quite make out what it's of. It seems geometric with long interconnecting lines. I'm not sure if it makes an image, but it suits him and is so gorgeous. It makes him even more intimidating and mysterious. What is it? Why did he get it? What does it mean for him?
He resumes his position next to me on the bed and flicks the cap of the bottle open, a tiny grin tugging at his lips.
He grips my cheek again as I rest my head back on the mattress, close my eyes, and focus on the here and now.
I flinch again, as cold liquid hits my crack, followed quickly by one of his fingers - his thumb, I think - massaging the liquid and warming it up.
"Take a deep breath for me and relax. I'm going to push in, alright?" His voice is so low, so intimate, so only for me, it makes goosebumps spread across my body.
I nod, but then remember the rules. "Green."
"Good." Good Lord, the way his voice acts like another caress.
I will my muscles to relax, even as I'm being torn apart by lust and vulnerability. He breaches my tight ring of muscles, and I whimper again, gripping the sheets so tightly my fingers ache.
The feeling is so strange, and so foreign, and so naughty feeling, that I can't help but squirm.
"Good?" he asks, flexing the digit and massaging my inner walls.
"Oh, God," I whimper again. "So good." I moan, mewl, whimper, and sigh as he keeps up his ministrations.
"Need to come?"
"God… yes… so… bad..." I pant out between sharp breaths, sawing in and out of my chest.
"Turn onto your back," he commands, and I flip over instantly, gripping my cock in a death grip as my balls pull tight.
He slides a digit back inside of me, and when I open my eyes to see him resting back on his legs, between mine, I explode with a loud moan, coming all over my chest and abs. My back bows off of the mattress, but he doesn't let up. He massages me through it, and I come so hard my vision blackens on the edges. The most gorgeous man I've ever seen is between my legs, touching me, watching me with his calm demeanor as I lose myself in my first gay experience.
When I finally collapse, releasing my dick and breathing through the most intense orgasm of my life, he slides his finger out of me and just waits. God, he's a pro at this - at making people feel comfortable with him. Even wrung out, covered in sweat and cum.
I know I paid him, and he didn't get off, but I hope it was good for him.
When my heart starts to slow, I open my eyes to find him watching me silently. His face is completely devoid of any emotion, and the insecurity creeps back in. I drop my gaze to his pants, a sliver of satisfaction slicing through me, seeing it tented.
"Do you..." I ask, nodding to his waist, unable to ask outright what I mean.
His gaze drops to his watch. "We have half an hour left. Do you want to continue?" he asks, matter-of-factly, and something in my chest falls at the reminder that this is all transactional for him. I just had the most mind-blowing experience of my life, and this is just another job for him.
Do I want to continue? What do I want to do? Jack him off? Put my mouth on him? Yes. I want to see him. I want to knowwhat he looks like when he comes. I want him to know I'm not a selfish lover. Even if we never become lovers in the future.
I nod. "Yes. I want to... I want to blow you." Honesty, remember?
He nods before positioning himself against the headboard again, undoing his belt, kicking off his shoes and socks, and shrugging out of his slacks and black boxer briefs. Good God, this man is incredible.
Thick thighs coated in dark, soft-looking hair. Hard, dark cock, red and angry-looking. Something settles behind my sternum. He's exuding a calm intensity, but he's clearly affected by me. It beats back some of my insecurity. He's a professional at this and is still hard for me. Forme. He exudes such confidence, even completely naked, that I envy.
I crawl forward a little on my knees, my cock kicks, trying to make a rebound, seeing him in all his naked glory, but it's spent.
"Um... how should I... " I start, unsure of this entire process.
He sees my nerves and my uneasiness, and instead of teasing me about it, he's calm - commanding. "Do to me what you'd like done to you."
Oh, right. I like blow jobs. I crawl forward again, reaching out with a shaky hand to wrap it around his cock. The vein on the bottom is angry, thick, and I lick my lips in anticipation. I've never had a cock in my mouth, but I guess there's a first time for everything.
I bring it to my lips as I bend forward. I'm at once hit by the masculine smell of him. His body wash or deodorant, but warmed by his body heat and musky. I swipe at the head with my tongue, tasting a man for the first time. I never enjoyed going down on my wife, and would do the bare minimum to warm her up. Maybe that was my first red flag.
But I find I like the taste of him - the smell of him. I gather saliva in my mouth before lowering my head more, wrapping my lips around him, and taking him as far back as I can.