Never Enough

Today's fuck was incredibly, intensely pleasurable, and has only left me hungry for more sex. He was another young guy, not my typical type: a little taller than me, short curly hair on his head, slender smooth body with very little definition, like a sea creature, and an almost choirboy-like face under the scruff on his chin. He hit me up last time he was in town, months ago, but it didn't work to get together, so this time around he wanted to set aside time in advance, before he arrived. I'm not so sure why I was so acquiescent to the encounter, since he really isn't really what I tend to go for. It must have been the ass, which didn't disappoint in person either: beautifully round, taut but pliant, oversized for his lanky frame, crowning rather thick thighs covered with coarse hair. He met me at the door of his hotel room naked, looking like something you invite into your lap to pet. I sidled up to him and looked him in the eye and made to kiss him, and he seemed extremely shy and reticent for someone who just met me at the door naked. I reached behind to stroke his buttocks while I brushed his lips with mine, and just the heft of his ass, just that perfect curve in my hand, was enough to make my dick engorge with blood. The shyness was somehow acting in his favor, arousing my ardor and making me want to crack it. Before we got too into it I had to take a pit stop, and I came back to find him lying languidly on the bed, idly fingering his fairly small dick. I leaned over to kiss him-- his lips parted a bit more for me, which I took as a good sign, and I undid my belt and let my shorts drop to reveal my meaty choad. He looked me up and down slowly. And I clambered over to the bed and brazenly put the tip of my dick against his lips, and he slowly sucked me in, and the real fun began.

What I took for shyness I think in the end as an almost autistic sensuality. It inspired me to move almost painfully slowly with him, a real contrast to last week's encounter. He had two hot spots-- his inner ear, which sent him into some remote, private universe of pleasure when licked, and his small nipples, which needed just the tiniest of flicks to make him stoned on the sensations of sex. I slowly fucked his face with my thick but not hard dick, and when it entered his throat the feeling was velvety and intense; he took this slow-motion skullfucking with complete equanimity, only closing his eyes a bit when I sank in all the way, but opening them wide to look up at my hairy body towering over him when I pulled out to reveal the head. I have not been with anyone this obviously into my body in a long time.

I laid on top of him and he hiked his big thighs up beside me so I could plant a hand on each round buttock, and lick his neck and ears. He spoke barely audibly to himself, about whatever it was he was feeling. I was happy to supply the sensations even if I couldn't quite make the words out. My dick looked humongous next to his, which was pointy-headed and at most four and a half inches long. I'd met him on Daddyhunt, and rather predictably, when I fucked his little dick with my big fat tool, he kept repeating "Look at that big daddy dick, look at that big daddy dick," and I admit I felt hung like a stallion compared to him, which somehow made me hard as a rock. I couldn't wait to get this boner inside him and feel his wet velvety insides.

But first I had to eat him out. He flipped over slowly for me, gazing abstractedly over his shoulder as I brushed my beard across his thighs and balls, slid my nose up the cleft of his rear, and did the first tentative prods of his hole with my tongue. As I ate him out he lowered his head to rest on the bed and emitted a continual series of little whimpers. He felt tight. I mounted him and admired my erection nestled between his beautifully-formed cheeks, then tried to push it in a bit. It wasn't going to work yet.

I sat back on the bed and let him suck me some more. He looked at my pubes and my legs and my hairy torso greedily as he sucked, and his saliva was beautifully slippery and viscous. I thought maybe this kind of slickness would help me slip in him easier. So I flipped him over again, remounted, and planted my steely erection between his cheeks. And slowly, slowly sank it in, letting his ass take me at its own rate. He made tiny yelps as each millimeter went by. And then I was inside him completely. And I started fucking.

Slow at first, but when it became clear each length of dick was sliding in and out of him without resistance, I started seriously plowing him. I propped myself up on my arms a few times to admire myself sliding between his buttocks, but the sight was so exciting that every time I did I wanted to cum, so I mostly closed my eyes, chewed on his beard, pulled his hair in a slow fist, stuck my finger in his mouth, held his neck, stroked his back, and thrust in and in and in. He took it like a champ and stared at me with that hazy expression of passive bliss.

I put him on his back and fucked him face to face, both of us in a trance of uninterrupted pleasure, baldy staring into each other as our bodies merged. He made out hungrily now, no shyness left, just a desire to have me do to him what I was doing. I kept it up as long as I could, till I was dripping sweat everywhere, till I was blinding myself with my own sopping brow. The pleasure of this fuck penetrated deep into my spine, the straining sensation of my dick radiated into every nerve in my body, and I never wanted to cum. But of course I had to. I gave him the longest, deepest strokes I could, using my whole body to fuck my dick into him, watching his face, holding his hips down beside his pubes, drilling into him. "I could cum this way," he said, "we could cum at the same time." I nodded and kept moving my body, and he fell back into his bottomy haze. He didn't look hard to me, but who understands what a bottom feels from looking at his dick? Hearing those words had made my nuts clench, however, and I just wanted to feel the orgasm. I told him I was going to cum, and said, "I'm going to pull out and cum on you." He looked me in the eye blankly; I am not sure where he wanted me to cum. But I said, "I'm going to cum on you because I want you to SEE," and right when I said SEE, my ducts swelled with newly released jizz, and I pulled out my rock-hard ramrod and fisted it hard, ejecting a long rope of liquid pleasure that landed right in the center of his torso, pooling at the top in the little cleft between his collarbones, right down to his dick. He put his hand in it, never taking his eyes from my face, transfixed by my orgasm, and slicked up his own dick with my goo. I came a few more long jets on him, and he pointed down at his hole. He wanted me inside to get off. I grimaced and stuck my screamingly sensitive dick in him, and thrust. And this made him shot too, hard fast little sprays.

This orgasm was an incredible release. I still feel the warm radiating afterglow, a couple of hours later, as I write this.

I took a shower and he told me about his relationship with his partner, who is apparently even older than me. They're open and the partner apparently likes hearing the stories about his assignations with other tops. I'm curious to know what he'll say about me. As I was drying off from the shower, trying to get my hair to look like I hadn't just spent the past hour drilling my penis into another man, I made a face in the mirror at my lack of progress, and he said from the doorway, "You look great." I laughed and let it be and took the compliment, something I don't do well. "You have that glow," he said, framing my face with trembling hands for effect. I laughed again and chatted randomly while I pulled on my shorts and buttoned up my shirt, and he kept staring down at me as I talked, and said under his breath, "Look at those legs." He was a sweet kid.

On the train ride home I was almost overwhelmed with the variety of male beauty on display. Across from me was a short, jewy, fratty guy with a meaty body, hair frothing out of his t-shirt, oversized headphones on his head pumping something into his ears that made him rock out a little. Near him, a serious, literary-looking guy with a face full of character-- eagle's nose and knitted brow, glittering eyes, wavy hair-- stared ahead of him, his body thin but full of exciting curves, wide shoulders, tiny waist, big ass, naturally swelling pecs, feet stuffed into thin saddle shoes. Down the end of the car, a muscular hipster with copious foofy black hair on top of his head, shaved on the sides, fun facial hair, mint-green American Apparel jeggings, a scoop t-shirt that said "RE FRIED BEANS" down the front, pale grey eyes of some eastern European mongrel derivation, an exciting contrast of ridiculous and sexy. The weather is beautiful, bright, and cool today. The world is full of incredible men. How could it ever be enough? How could not enough feel so good?