I chafe his arms.“Come on.”
So we go into the bedroom.It’s all ready, the covers turned down, the lube on the nightstand, a towel.He stands next to the bed while I light candles, and then the room is full of a soft, flickering glow.When I tug his shirt off, he raises his arms to let me, and the play of light and shadows looks good on his bare skin.He pushes my joggers down.My dick pops out, the tip wet, a strand of pre hanging.I kick the joggers off the rest of the way and get on my knees.His shorts get caught on his boner, and he makes a faintly pleased but also somewhat distressed noise as I make a whole production out of it, pulling the fabric tight against his hard dick, just enough that I know the discomfort is also something of a turn on.
“Gray,” he says, and he wraps his hands around my wrists.
I give in and work his dick out of his shorts and pull them down around his ankles.He’s still stepping out of them when I take the head of that fat dick in my mouth, and he whimpers and wraps his hands around the back of my head—in part to steady himself, and in part to pull me onto his cock.I don’t know if Sammy even knows what a dom is, but when that boy knows what he wants, he takes it—in the politest way possible.And I’m having this out-of-body experience of thinking how maybe that’s a new thing, like a gentleman dom, and how much fun it would be to tell Emery about it.
But I’m not thinking about Emery for long because I’ve got a donkey cock to take care of, and the fact that it’s attached to Sammy makes it so much hotter, because he’s making those soft, pleased noises, and he’s starting to fuck my face in the most civilized way possible.He’s big enough that all I can do is focus on him.
When he starts to get close, I can tell: his dick hardens, the head flares, the taste of him grows even stronger in my mouth.I pull back, and he lets me, but there’s a look on his face like I took away his favorite toy, and I almost smile.
He’s a good boy, though, so he asks, “What’s wrong?Are you okay?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say, and now I do laugh, and my voice sounds wrecked.“I will happily choke to death on your dick another night.But I was thinking, maybe we could try something new tonight.”
He’s not just a good boy; he’s a smart one, too.He saw the lube.I can see in his face that he knows where this is going.The worry is mostly around his eyes.
“Do you want to fuck me?”I ask.“I’ve got condoms if you want one, but I’m on PrEP, and I got tested after, uh, everything.”
I’m thinking that topping will ease his concerns—since I’m still not sure where Sammy falls on the spectrum from raging homosexual to oops-my-dick-fell-in-your-mouth.He’s a cop.He’s butch.For fuck’s sake, he owns those fucking coveralls.The thought of somebody popping his cherry might send him over the edge.
But instead, the worry lines around his eyes deepen.
“What?”I say.I stroke his thighs; he’s starting to soften.“Hey, what’s up?”
His voice is stiff with that wary self-protection I remember from the first night—from his first time.“I don’t want to hurt you.”
There’s this part of me that’s actually surprised I don’t find it funny.Because another me would have thought it was hilarious.Instead, it feels like something’s breaking inside me, but in this huge, overwhelmingly good way, and my eyes sting as I rub his thighs again.“You’re not going to hurt me, baby.I know what I’m doing.”
The indecision on his face makes thatthinginside me break all over again.
“Let’s lie down,” I say.
So, we lie down, the mattress springs creaking under us, and I kiss him.It takes a few more kisses before he kisses me back, and slowly, his body starts to relax.I get a little lube in my hand, but before he can protest—or whatever he’s thinking about saying—I whisper, “I’m not doing anything,” and then I start to stroke him as we make out some more.
He’s young.And it doesn’t take long for him to come roaring back.
When I think he might be ready, I make sure I’m looking him in the eye and say, “The important thing is to go slow and use lots of lube.But I promise, Sam—Ipromise—you’re going to make me feel so good.And I think you’ll like it too.”
The candlelight moves in his eyes.And then he nods.
I work a little lube inside myself, and then I throw a leg over him, scoot into position, and bring his hands to my chest.He gets the message, and he starts running them over my belly, tweaking my nipples, touching me with the blend of novelty and familiarity that he’s developed over the last couple weeks—like he knows my body, but it’s still, somehow, new to him every time.I take him in hand, line us up, and lower myself onto him.
He’s as big as anybody I’ve ever taken; I’m a lot of things, but a size queen isn’t one of them.And at first the stretch is intense—even with the lube, it burns as his head forces its way inside.I stop to give my body time to adjust.
Sam is rubbing my stomach.“Are you okay?”
I nod.He’s looking at my dick, which is soft, so I say, “It’s just a lot.My body’s focused on other stuff right now.It doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”
I can tell by his face that he doesn’t believe me.
Slowly, I begin the process of taking the rest of him inside me.It probably doesn’t take as long as itfeelslike it takes, and there’s a glimmer of pressure when he brushes that spot inside me.He must be feeling something too because he forgets about stroking my chest and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose.
And then he’s in me.I run my hands over his arms, and his eyes flick half-open.I move—raising myself up, dropping back down again.A little faster this time.His dick is big enough that he’s pressing against that spot almost constantly, and I’m going to white-out from the pleasure.I’m distantly aware of my own moans.
Sammy’s clutching my hips, and he sounds strangled when he says, “You’re so tight.”
In answer, I move again.
