I was naked on my own bed, leaning back against the headboard. For a laundry list of reasons - some circumstance-related and others due to my own insecurities and self-punishment - I thought the man standing at the foot of my bed would always be out of my reach. That what was happening was as close to a zero percent possibility as you could get. But there he stood, surveying my body with the type of fire, desire, and hunger I'd fantasized about literally thousands of times.
I averted my eyes from him to myself, taking in my nakedness. I'd never been a fan of looking at myself in this way. I didn't like having pictures taken of me. Looking in the mirror used to make me uncomfortable. I was newly on a journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance and starting to like the way I looked, flaws, imperfections and all. Although I went to the gym three to four days a week, I didn't look like some sort of muscled-out gymrat or meathead. Even though I'd hardly describe myself as unhealthy, I had a touch of excess meat on my belly from ingesting more than just watercress salads and protein shakes. Over 15 years ago, I'd let a guy I was involved with get in my head and convince me to shave my crotch because "no one likes hair down there." It had grown back in, but not as thick as it had been before I shaved. I've always hated that I'd changed myself in such an unnecessary and superficial way for a man.
Any hangup or insecurity I had, the man standing in front of me couldn't have cared less. He wanted me. Not an idealized version of me or the me he wanted me to turn myself into for him. It was ME. That much was obvious by the look on his face. As my eyes traveled down my torso, my own need for him was plainly clear. Unless he wanted to hear me say the words, he didn't have to ask. All he had to do was look at my cock, towering steely above my lower midsection. When I brought my gaze back up to his face, the corner of his mouth curled into an amused grin. He knew about my self-esteem issues and my knee-jerk tendency to get in my own head. He definitely knew exactly what I was thinking right then and he was proud that I was taking in my own beauty and allowing myself to completely be given over to the connection we were forming in the moment.
He brought his hands up to the second button of the dress shirt he'd worn to dinner tonight. I'd already popped the top one open during our make out session downstairs on my couch a short time ago. He had question in his eyes, making sure I was ready for this. I was. I had been for a long time. I gently nodded my head. Without looking away, he slowly, sensually, torturously undid each button until it fell open, allowing me to see the pepper with a little salt starting to come in hair splayed across his runners-build chest, trailing down to his trim stomach.
"Wow..." I said softly.
"Guess I don't have to ask if you like," he teased me.
I bit my lip and shook my head. "But because you deserve all the praise I can heap on you, I like. A LOT!"
"Good," he whispered, the good natured expression of his tease giving way to desire once again.
"Let me see you," I finally said, hearing eagerness on my voice.
Instantly knowing what I meant, he bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders until his shirt fell down his arms and his back. He pulled each sleeve off of his arm and let it fall to the floor. I knew he went to the gym about as often as I did, but he was obviously much more dedicated to it than I was. His muscled arms and shoulders were proof of that. The fact of the matter was that I wanted a good, decent, honorable man who may not be perfect, but always tried to do the right thing. I knew he was that kind of man, but I kind of hated that I was so superficial in the moment that all I really cared about was how good his torso and arms looked.
"Jesus," I sighed.
"I'll take that as a compliment!" With a Cheshire cat grin, he started to climb onto the bed at the foot, when I stopped him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
For a moment, he looked startled, as if he wasn't sure what I was getting at. When he stood frozen, with his hands on either side of my legs and one knee on the mattress, I let him off the hook. "This bed has a no clothes allowed policy. I'm afraid you'll be in non-compliance if I let you keep going. I'm going to need you to align yourself to code before we can proceed!"
He grinned and stood upright. "I shoulda known. You've always been a stickler for the rules!"
"If this bed needs an accountability officer when you're around, I'm more than willing to step into the role," I replied, adding with a sense of horny urgency. "Now with that said...off with 'em!"
I stuck my thumb out and pointed over my shoulder. My excitement wasn't just because he was here with me. It was fed by the growing and fattening bulge that was stretching down the left leg of his trousers. If I felt superficial before about valuing his body over his character and his non-physical attributes, I was feeling even more so now. So anxious to see his cock. My mouth was starting to water as I watched him undo his belt, pull it through the loops and drop it onto the floor with a thud.
Next, he unbuttoned his pants, pulled the zipper down, and pushed them down. After he stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor to the other side of the room, I was able to take in the lower body I'd seen so vividly many times before. His muscled thighs, sculpted from leg days at the gym and his legs toned and fit from his dedication to running. But what really caught my eye was the distended bulge tenting the pouch of his boxer briefs. The moist spot where his head was dressed giving away that he was just as turned on as I was.
Looking directly into my eyes, he reached down to first palm and massage the bulge before he stuck his hand below the elastic band and pretended to readjust himself for my benefit. "I guess these are in the way, aren't they?"
"I'll say..." I said, hearing a quiver in my voice. "You wanna do something to remedy the situation?"
"Should I?" he teased me with a smirk. The horny bastard knew I wanted it bad and was enjoying building my anticipation. I was enjoying it too.
"Don't make me get off this bed," I half-pretended to be frustrated.
"Uh-uh," he shook his head. "You're not out of this bed until I say so."
With that, he slowly peeled his underwear down, letting his more than eight incher pop free and upward. over top of a set of full-looking balls. After he bent over to grab them from the floor, he surprised the hell out of me by bringing them up to his face and took a big huff of the pouch.
"Ohhhh fuccckkkk!" I moaned. It was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen. Seeing the pure satisfaction on his face as he took in his own musky scent. Who'd have thought?
When he finally let them drop from his hand to the floor, he looked at me. "Do I finally meet the rigorous requirements to be allowed on the bed?'
