Skill

Today I squirted all the cum my nuts have been churning out for the past four days into the ideal receptacle for my pleasure: the Handsome Fuckboy. Throughout the fuck-- which was rather slow, owing to how horny and pent-up I was-- his dick stayed hard as a rock, pointing straight up at his navel, as only a 22-year-old's can, oozing nonstop a thin thread of precum strung with dazzling clear drops of his excited fluid. This is one of life's most beautiful sights. There is nothing more gratifying to a top like me than a bottom who so obviously displays the signs of feeling intense pleasure at taking my dick inside him, feeling my body on his, being stroked with my bearded mouth all over his skin. The kid is unusually sensual, an unusually pliant, and definitely unusually skilled, especially for someone that age. He's turning into my favorite bottom.

In many ways it seems like bottoming, at least the way I like it, doesn't require much skill at all; I'm not a big fan of guys who make a big show of fucking me back or milking my cock with their ass or whatever. I love good head, which obviously requires a lot of skill, but once I've got my dick in your body, it's best if you just open yourself to me and enjoy the ride. But there is definitely something that bottoms like this kid can do that other's can't. Maybe it's an accident of how he's built-- built to be fucked, for sure-- but the way he takes my dick inside him, with the perfect combination of yielding and resistance, and the way he positions his legs to give me complete access to not only the inner reaches of his guts but also the surface of his body, is a marvel. I can put all my body weight on him, feel my hairy chest stroke against his, all while cradling his head, sucking his lips, AND giving him every inch of my tool. This one thing, which you'd think would be so simple, is really the holy grail for me, and something I always thought would somehow be impossible when I first considered what fucking between two guys would be like. Someone once told me, "You fuck me and make love to me at the same time!" And it's true, that's what I want to do. I want to ream your fucking hole but I want to feel you, cradle you, kiss you, be close to you, share your heat. Bad bottoms stick their feet on my chest and go FUCK ME, giving me every inch of their hole and absolutely nothing else. The Handsome Fuckboy gives me everything… everything.

Of course he looks so sweet from behind, simultaneously boyish and manly, with a furry round butt but a slender waist and back and arms, that I begin there. The noises he makes while I eat his ass are priceless; diminutive little yelps that are so at odds with how he smirks at me when I admire and stroke his body. I lick all the curves and bulges between his legs and buttocks and he makes noises which involuntarily tell me everything I need to know. He's so young and tight that I can't get enough of sucking on his hindquarters and I bite him again and again and again so he feels me. And his hole is such an ideal bottom's hole, so clean, so smooth, so yielding and ready. He makes my dick hard and heavy as a lead pipe, he makes the ducts in my groin overflow with slimy precum so that when I push into him, I slide and slide all the way to the stopping place. He makes noises that make me think it's painful, but when I ask him if it's ok, he drawls slowly, "I am in heaven." And I feel it, I plow his ass with my hips and hold the sides of his little body in my hands and I feel the electricity in his skin.

And it is a beautiful sight, his little body completely invaded and covered and immobilized by mine, to give him pleasure, not pain. But I need him on his back. I need to see his face while I deep dick him.

And more skill… just a simple touch of one of his hips, the slightest pressure suggesting he roll over, and he reads it. Elegantly with no fuss he folds his legs together, turns over, and spreads out his limbs gently, waiting to receive my dick again, and I am back inside, and he is folded all around me, and we are lip to lip and I feel his stiff cock against my belly. I have had bottoms freak out and sit up and go "WHAT NOW WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO WHERE?" And I have to kill everything by saying, roll over, lay on your back, like I'm directing a movie from a booth somewhere. The Handsome Fuckboy feels the pressure of two fingers on his hip and he knows what I want and he wants it, too.

I fuck him slow, grooving as best I can for as long as I can on long deep shimmering strokes of my tool inside him before the pleasure is too dangerous again and all I can do is push into him deep as it will go and hold there. He is happy with this; those times I go in deep he shivers with happiness and closes his eyes and I know he is fulfilled. But I know if I could just get over the hump and fuck him hard, intense, sweaty, he would follow me around mewing like a kitten. But he turns me on so much every time, I never can.

I stop sometimes and lick my hand and stroke his beautiful, pointed, fleshy dickhead, and he oozes for me as if on command, right into my hand. I use it to make him feel even better, and he shakes his head at me, and sinks his head back into the pillows, and I feel his dick strain when I push into him deep, holding his dick.

And I'm cumming. This is when I can let loose and show him what I can do, if only, if only; I buck against him with all my weight and all my length and shoot shot after shot of my juice into him, fucking and fucking and fucking. His eyes are open wide now, watching my face as I cum. I have no idea what I look like, do I look like an idiot? Do I have a face full of bliss? He watches me and I unload everything I have into him and it is so fucking good.

I stay inside him for a while and we are quiet. His dick is harder than ever. I hold it in my hand and more of that sweet slippery clear stuff flows out. I run my finger through it, over the hole, between the lobes at the top of his dickhead, down the line of skin in front of his dick that I know feels so good, and he sighs. I go behind his dickhead and stroke under the ridge, over the fleshy head, and then, with a spit-slick hand, I gently grasp and twist, all the skin between shaft and head, and he oozes and oozes for me and sighs and says "Oh my God that feels so GOOOOD" and sinks even deeper into the pillows. My dick is not deflating, I am still hard inside him because he is a good bottom. I keep my pace perfectly steady, wondering if I need to go faster and faster to make him cum, or if I could make him cum just like this. He lifts his head and looks at me in a way that lets me know without a word to keep it steady, not stop, and be patient. I twist and pull and glide over the end of his bone, and I make my own throb inside his body, and after about ten strokes, thick white sponge his pulsing out in my hand. Inside his orgasm is massaging my dick, hard. He's only making noises and thrashing. For a while I keep up the technique, but after a few squirts I jerk him hard and let him ride out the rest of his orgasm. He never swats my hands away to do it himself. I'm still fucking him somehow, fucking his dick with my hand, and he's letting me, and it made him cum.

Nice. I pull out as slow as I can. He was unusually squicky-sounding while I was dicking him down; I worry that he's too juicy. My dickhead finally pops out audibly, and he laughs. Everything is fine, but my hand is gooey as an oyster and he's covered with more. We clean up a bit.

I love to hold and stroke him afterward, because his body is so small and tight and soft, but I know he has to meet someone after this, so I say, "You need to meet someone, don't you," and he takes it and says yeah, "But I had to come over here first." He gets dressed and I ask him about school. He is a little awkward at first, but then tells me some details about his thesis, a short film he has to make. And I get him some water and we talk a bit about school and he is more relaxed. When it's time for goodbye, his kiss is weirdly chaste, with tightly puckered lips-- it's like kissing Grandma, except Grandma doesn't have a pint of my milk sloshing around in her hindquarters. It's too bad once he cums he looses his sensual manner.

I thank him for coming by as he trots out the door, and he calls back, "Oh no, this HAD to happen." I'm gratified. He's 22 and handsome and sweet and skilled. I could easily make a fool out of myself for him!