It's been a long time coming. I finally was able to write my next story. This story is courtesy of my two best sexual friends, DC and RU. Thanks for everything. Feedback ALWAYS welcome.
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The shower is a big one, with lots of jets and spray everywhere. Plenty of steam, too. I lean him up against the wall, legs and arms spread out, like I'm ready to frisk him. He's facing the wall, showing me his magnificent backside.
His body is trim and strong. There is power in his shoulders, back, legs and ass. His muscles quiver under his smooth, perfect skin. His head hangs down and he's silently inviting me to touch him, to feel the steam on his skin and the subdued tension underneath.
I start at his shoulders, my fingers spread wide as if trying to touch all of him at once. I run my hands slowly down his back, thumbs joined at his spine, fingers dancing a smooth rhythm over his defined ribs. I work my way down his back in a long, slow, fluid motion.
When I come to his hips, I pause for a moment. At this moment, I control his body physically. I can pull his hips toward me, toward my body that wants so desperately to feel him pressed against me. But I can also push him away, pressing him up against the warm, damp tile, controlling his movement. I can push down and turn him so that he could take my cock into his mouth. I have control in this moment, and he gives it to me willingly. But I do none of these things.
I move my hands around to his lower belly, slowly sliding them together, forming a large circle with my fingers. I will not yet touch his manhood. I want the tension and excitement to build. I bring my hands together, encircling his cock and balls, feeling the smoothness of his skin where he just shaved. I pull slightly, bringing his ass just a little closer. I imagine his cock, so close to my hands, longing to be touched.
I move my hands back over his hips, around his waist and to the very base of his spine. I move my hands lower, feeling the power and tension in his buttocks. I spread his cheeks slightly, exposing his most intimate, personal part. I love the feel of his skin in my hands. I am fully erect, and if I let myself go, the moment will end all too soon.
I continue moving down, at the same time regretting leaving his ass and yet deeply enjoying feeling the strength in his thighs. God, he's got beautiful legs. They are strong, lean, pliable. I work my way down the back of his calves all the way to his ankles, then slide my hands to his shins and begin to work my way back up.
When I get past his knees, I curl my around the outside of his legs, reaching around towards his inner thighs. I pull closer to him, now feeling the heat of his body against my skin, mingling with the heat from the steam.
I again brush past his heavy cock and balls, knowing that if I stop there now, this sensual moment will devolve into something I'm not quite ready for.
I slide my hands up his belly. Now our bodies are pressed together. My belly and chest against his back. I can feel him breathing, tense with anticipation. My own cock, hard and anxious, is pressed against his ass, finding its own way in between his cheeks. I pull my hands up to his chest, feeling the cut of his muscle just beneath the skin. I bury my face in his neck; I need now to touch as much of him as I can.
As I kiss his neck, I can feel tiny bits of stubble against my tongue. I don't mind. His skin is delicious. I rub his chest, his nipples, as our hips begin to move together. We are both fully in the moment, loving the close intimacy. My cock slides freely up and down against his ass, nudging gently against his tight hole. I want to enter him, and I know he wants me to. But not yet, not just yet.
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Jake Dillon and I met in the most banal of ways; online. I had posted a personal ad on an adult site. He had responded. After years of living the straight life but having a wandering mind, I had finally come to terms with my overwhelming desire to be intimate and sexual with another man.
I was very specific in the ad about what I wanted. I did not want some girlish man who dressed in flowers and make-up and danced down the street shouting "you go girl!" I wanted a masculine man. A man who was the essence of being a man. A man's man. I wanted to suck a man's cock and have him suck mine. I wanted to fuck his ass and I especially wanted him to fuck mine. I wanted to feel what it was like to take and be taken and I honestly wasn't sure if there was someone out there who felt the same way or who would help me live out my fantasies.
After a few replies and a couple of misfires, I got an email from Jake. He was a young professional who kept his sex life private. He'd had partners of both sexes and enjoyed them both. But although he'd had male partners, he hadn't had that many. He wanted more and wanted to take the next step by having a deeper relationship with a man who was centered and self-aware.
We struck up an easy conversation on line, traded a few emails and finally pictures. When he sent his first pictures to me, I was floored and highly skeptical. He was gorgeous. I couldn't believe my good luck, but I later discovered, to my great joy and arousal, the pictures were indeed of Jake.
But even more than the physical attraction, I was drawn to him as a person. He was funny and smart. He would often refer to historical events or artists of the past casually, taking for granted that I could keep up with him.
He was outgoing and friendly, but long emails sent late at night reflected some inner struggles. He struggled occasionally with his desire to live openly in a society that still looked down on same-sex relationships. He struggled to find his place in his world.
Professionally, he felt just a bit outside the mainstream. Although he was attractive and personable, he carried an inner demon that told him he wasn't quite good enough. So at work, in meetings or at social gatherings, he often felt like others were including him as a courtesy. They seemed to laugh at jokes he didn't quite understand, but he laughed along anyways to cover his insecurities.
He shared all this with me, first by email and later by phone and eventually in person.
After trading emails for a few weeks, we finally spoke over the phone. I loved the sound of his voice from the first moment it resonated in my ear. It was deep, clear and animated. Soon we were on the phone daily. If either of us were in public, we talked about our mutual interests. It turned out we were sports fans, movie buffs and shared similar political views. Our conversations in private were very open and sexually charged. We would often talk late into the night, weaving our fantasies in with the realities of our daily lives.
I told him after a few calls that this was exactly what I had hoped for when I had posted my personal ad. He laughed and said this was exactly what he had hoped for when he replied. He, too, had been looking for a relationship built on more than sex, but where sex was openly and freely discussed.
We soon decided it was time to meet. He lived a few hours away by car. We agreed to meet halfway. We would take a long weekend and see what happened.
It was clear that we were both anxious to get together. He and I both looked at places online to stay, discussing the finer points of each room, shower, bathtub and hotel. We discussed in great detail the restaurants and possible activities we might attempt as we recovered. We wondered and joked aloud if we would even want to leave the room.
