complexion.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“I don’t want you to get complacent.” I run my hands over his round butt cheeks, learning the feel of his skin, the shape of him. When I squeeze his buttocks, he moans.
I admit to watching a few gay porn videos this past week, when I lay in bed unable to sleep. I don’t know how realistic they are, but at least it’s something to go on. I’ll have to trust Ian to correct me if I make a mistake.
I apply lube, which is in a handy squirt bottle, directly to the condom. Then I dribble some between his ass cheeks. He moans low in his throat, and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Are you okay?”
He presses his face into the sheet, laughing. “Just hurry up. God, you’re killing me here!”
I apply lube to my middle finger, and when I run the slippery tip of my finger around the rim of his puckered hole, he groans. “Finally!”
When I press my finger in, just a bit, he relaxes, loosening his muscles, and my finger slides in easily. I stroke him, spreading the lube. I curl my finger toward his belly and search for his prostate. I want to make this damn good for him. I know when I find it, because he moans loudly as he clutches the sheet. I keep stroking him inside, slow and steadily, until he drops his head to the mattress and his thighs start to shake.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this?” he says, fisting his cock.
I sink my finger deeper, then slide it out and back in, lubing him up and brushing against his prostate each time. I don’t know if what I read was bullshit or not, but I did some research. I’m not going into this completely blind.
I slide a second finger inside him and stroke, the lube making it easier.
He cries out, the sound garbled as he presses his face into the bedding. “Shit! I thought you didn’t know what you were doing!”
“I told you, I Googled it.”
“Fuck, Tyler!”
As I stroke him, I monitor his breathing and the sounds he’s making, judging his level of arousal. His muscles tense.
“Okay, stop!” he gasps. “You’re going to make me come, and I don’t want to come yet. Not until you do.”
I remove my fingers and grasp my cock instead, which is rock hard and throbbing with need. Positioning the head at his opening, I lean into him, letting my weight do most of the work. I watch, mesmerized, as the head of my cock presses against his opening. He sighs, breathing out, and suddenly his body opens for me, and the head of my cock sinks into him. He fists the bedding, and I hear him panting. And then I hear a long, agonized groan.
“Ian?”
“I’m fine!” He gasps, and then makes a plaintive sound. “Damn, you’re big.”
I laugh. “I warned you.”
“Shut up.” Without warning, he pushes back against me, groaning loudly as my cock sinks further into him. “Oh, God, fuck!”
My brain is short circuiting. He’s so damn tight, my cock feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice. I’ve never felt anything this fucking good. I rock forward a bit, then back, and he moans, his fists flexing on the bedding. He keeps pushing back against me, impaling himself on my cock, and I think it’s his way of signaling that he’s fine, and that I should stop worrying and start fucking.
I clutch his hips, my fingers digging into his flesh, and slide deeper. Forward and back I move, trying to lube him up well. Each time, I sink a bit deeper, and his moans get a little hoarser. I have to trust that he’ll let me know if something’s wrong.
I work myself in, a bit at a time, my cock hard and throbbing, until finally my groin is pressed up against his ass. I hold position for a moment, gritting my teeth at the exquisite tightness. My breath shallows and my heart pounds. Already my balls are drawn up tight, and I’m so close. My nerves are on fire, every inch of my spine electrified.
When I start to move, I reach around and stroke his cock again in rhythm with my own thrusting. I want him with me. Slowly, I rock in and out of him. The pleasure is mind-blowing, and I have to grit my teeth against coming too soon. He’s a lot younger than me, so I have a reputation to worry about.