Thursday, July 04, 2019

Boss

He doesn’t like “Sir”, but told me to call him “Boss”.

This I could work with.

“Bruno” was a guy I had been interested in for years. YEARS!!!!

He’d click on my Scruff profile often and then disappear. I could tell by the frequency that he either dropped off-line for weeks / months, or he only was in town infrequently. And then there were the few times I ran into him at my gym. He’d look at me – and I was never sure he put 2+2 together.

Bruno was and wasn’t my type. Bearded – yes (and very much so). Shaved head – yes. Butch – yes. Height – no, as he stood maybe 5’5”. I know I’m buying into a stereotype, but I find it hard for a guy pushing a foot shorter than myself to be ‘the dom’. I knew I could work through this issue. I’m a professional. One that doesn’t get paid for this line of work, but a pro nonetheless.

So over this holiday season, he was around. I reached out and ‘woof’d’ at him. We started to converse, and while he said he was introverted, it did not take much for him to come out his shell. Soon the conversation turned to him wanting to see me suck his cock……….then get bent over. A little more and he was mentioning his leather jacket and Harley boots. Score!

After a bunch of start and stops, I was over at his place. He wanted to kiss. And kiss. And kiss. Sigh.

I’m all about kissing some guys, but this isn’t exactly what I was expecting from this guy. Or really wanted. It was a lot of tongue action. But I was there for him, so I did what was needed and what he wanted. On the plus side – he was a good kisser.

It took a while but soon his hands were on my shoulders pushing to my knees. I know the drill and went while looking up at him. He had on black jeans, and I undid the belt and opened them, which then dropped around his thighs. I mouthed the mound that had been there since I walked in the door. While kissing, I felt it….and felt it again….and again and again. Now it was the width of cotton away from being in my fucking mouth. I pulled them down exposing his 6”. He trembled when I ran my tongue over the head. He jolted as I made my tongue dance across the underside. He moaned when I took it all in my mouth in one motion.

Then he fucked my face. Hands on head. Hips moving expertly. It didn’t take him long to come out of his shell. Introverted, my ass. I went further down and worshipped his black Harley boots. He liked when I licked the black leather. He fucking loved it when I used my tongue on the soles and when I tried to take the tip of the boot in my mouth. He of little height, still looking down at me literally and figuratively. That part, I loved!

Whenever he would ask me something, the answer would include the word, “Boss”. He liked that, I loved it.

But while all of this was all well and good, both of our pre-discussions determined that this was about my ass. It’s what we both wanted – him to fuck it, me to be fucked.

We went upstairs to his bedroom. I loved the bed, as it was tall and high off the ground even for me, so way big for him. But we got down to it. Big time. 6” is a fine cock size, assuming one knows how to use it – but that true of many sized members.

Boss knew how to use it.

The guy was well versed in how to fuck. We would end up doing it on my side, on my back, on my front, sitting on him facing him and away. He had stamina. It got to the point that my hole was just so open for him. And slick, but not full of lube. More like self-lube. He had me excited enough that I was producing my own wetness.

He loved that I was open. He loved the way my hole felt and kept commenting on it. How silky it was. How great it felt to him and his cock. I started feeling self conscious, as I’m not great at accepting compliments. Ironically, this is not the first time I’d heard that during that same week. So my thought was: one guy saying that is him just being nice. But two saying it, well, maybe it’s true. He said it with such passion and conviction, if nothing else, it was true to him.

When I said he had stamina, I meant it. We pushed the two hour mark just at fucking. Edging. Fucking. Edging……….and so on. He wasn’t going to give up his cum that easily, but I figured that out after way, the 40 minutes.

By now my hole was way open and very accommodating. He loved how it blossomed for him. How it made moist sounds and he fucked. I loved that he loved it.

But truth be told, I did have things to do. He laid back to rest a bit and I took matters into my own hand……and butt. I straddled him, held his shaft in place and slid down on to him. He didn’t resist. He didn’t try to stop me. I rode his cock. Nice steady strokes with no relenting. His face said it all. The glaze in his eyes, the upward turn of his lips. He was happy.

While he didn’t say he was going to cum, there are some things a boy knows. The stiffening of the shaft up the pooper is one of them. His grabbing my hips and pushing me down, holding me there, was another. Actually, that was way more telling. So were the moans and the “oh SHIT”, as he fired his guns. Well, yeah, when he came I knew it, just not sure of the before.

I climbed off….eventually. First I had to milk the shaft, with each squeeze he shuddered head to toe. All 5’5” of him. We will get together again. Timing is a bitch, but when he’s in town, arrangements will be made.

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