|notreallyme10 (notreallyme10) wrote,|
@ 2007-08-20 11:31:00
Brian asked me once if I had ever played with my ass before I met him. I was mortified until I realized how much the idea turned him on. Early on he liked to keep me off balance. He was always pushing me just outside my comfort zone, but in a good way. In a way that had me hard all day, and all night for that matter.
He was staring at me, patiently waiting for an answer, but he had put my hand on his crotch so I could feel how hard he was through his jeans. He could see how uncertain I was so he lay down beside me on the bed and whispered in my ear.
“Justin, I want to hear about all the dirty things you used to do alone in your bedroom at night. I want to hear about how you played with your hole and how it made you feel.”
He can always tell when he is getting to me.
“You tell me what you did to yourself, and then I’ll do it to you. Unless you don’t want to play.”
I was still feeling shy, but I also wanted to do this, wanted to turn him on in this way. Honestly I have always wanted to turn him on in any way that I can. Later I realized I didn’t have to try very hard.
I started out slowly, telling him how I would jerk off at night imagining whatever guy I thought was hot as the time sucking my dick.
As promised, he stroked my dick as I spoke.
“You know I love watching you rub your cock, but you also know that’s not what I want to hear about right now. Is this game going to be over or are you going to give me what I want?”
I took a deep breath, which made him laugh softly at me, but then he nuzzled my neck lightly to encourage me.
“Not long before I met you, I started realizing how badly I wanted to be fucked. How much I wanted my ass to be filled up with dick.”
“Mmmnn, good boy.”
At the time, those two words were more of a turn on than the promise of him fucking me.
“I’d known I was gay for a while, but I guess I hadn’t really thought about exactly what that meant until then. I don’t even know how I knew that was something I wanted, but I started thinking about it a lot.”
“On your hands and knees. I want to see you while we do this.”
I did what he said but I was having a hard time forcing myself to speak again. He of course never let me off the hook.
“I’m not touching you until you start talking.”
“I would wet my fingers with spit or lotion and slip them around in my crack pushing in just a little. I didn’t really know what I was doing but just the idea of the whole thing was enough to get me off.”
“Show me Justin.”
I wanted him to touch me instead but I knew he was enjoying this so I wet two fingers in my mouth and brought them around to my ass.
I’m not sure I had ever felt so exposed before or after that day, my ass in the air, sharing intimate details of my sex life and touching myself all while he sat back and watched. I was so embarrassed but incredibly turned on.
“Did you pretend there was a wet tongue stroking your hole?”
“I don’t think I even knew people did that.”
“That’s too bad.”
He was fucking with me but at the time I just didn’t care. I was willing to beg or do whatever it took to get more. I was relieved when his own slick fingers pushed mine out of the way. He was touching me just the way I had described, his fingers sliding around and dipping in and out of my hole. Not deep, just enough to torture me.
“So you never really fingered yourself. I was the first person to touch you here.”
He pushed in fast and stroked my prostate and then, just as fast, pulled out and went back to the teasing touches he had been doing before.
He had me panting. Something in my brain clicked and I realized I had the opportunity to steer this. I lifted myself up onto my elbows and looked over my shoulder at him.
“Yes, you were the first person to touch me there. You taught me how I liked to be touched. After that night I craved it, pretty much all the time. At night in my room I would imagine elaborate scenarios of all the things you could do to me. I would fuck my fingers wishing it was your fingers, your tongue, fucking me. That you would make me come that way and then fuck me again with your cock.”
I’m not going to say that I always do a good job of reading Brian, I have certainly made some mistakes in that department over the years, but for the most part, as hard as he tries not to be, he is pretty predictable.
All it took were those few words to get exactly what I wanted. It wasn’t that they were a lie, because they weren’t, it was that I finally figured out exactly what would give me a little control of the situation while giving him the illusion that he still had it all. It was a turning point for me.
I love when Brian plays with my ass. One minute he's fucking me hard with three fingers and it burns and it's almost too much, and then his fingers are gone and I feel so empty but his tongue is gently teasing me, soothing the pain. Then there is one finger and it's probing, slipping in and out fast and his tongue is working with his finger. He tortures me by never letting me get quite enough of any one sensation before moving onto the next.
When he is like this he won’t touch my dick and he won’t let me either. He says he has never met anyone with an ass as sensitive as mine and he knows that the orgasm is just that much better when I’m patient and let it come from deep inside.
And when I do come it's from the overwhelming pressure he is putting on my prostate while his tongue tickles the stretched skin around his fingers. It’s the kind of orgasm that leaves you shaking and raw and when he pushes his cock in way too soon I want to yell and scream and come again.