Some boys claim the way to a man's heart is through his stomach-those boys must be bad in bed...
Give a man a choice between a delicious steak, or a mind-numbing, body-shaking orgasm, a dominant man will choose his hard cock over his rumbling stomach-well, most of the time anyway, hahahaha...
If that means having to indulge their harmless whims and fantasies, go for it-play along-your natural submissiveness and your ability to sublimate your ego to theirs is what attracted them to you in the first place.
So once inside Ben's car, and his demeanor suddenly turned forceful, I knew enough to go along with him.-I had played the same game in the past with men much less desirable than Ben.
When he brusquely ordered me to "Kiss it, boy-get your face down there and kiss my cock thru the slacks!" I groaned and demurely said, "Ohhh, yes, Sir-thank you, Sir!"
I buried my face in his crotch and deeply inhaled his manly aroma. I moaned into the thin material of his expensive slacks and pressed my lips to the outline of his long and slender penis. The heat and odor caused my brain to melt into a fog of need and anticipation.
His hand held my head to his crotch as he drove the car...he didn't need to do that-I was thrilled to kiss the length and width of his dormant cock thru the slacks-I would have pulled his zipper down using only my teeth if he had so ordered me.
By the time the car came to a stop, I had roused him to full erection, and the crotch of his slacks was damp from my wet kisses.
He gasped, "We're here-let's go inside."
I inhaled the manly aroma emanating through the cloth of his bulging crotch one more time then raised my head-stars were spinning before my eyes-I was dizzy and disoriented-he helped me from the car to his room, his hand on my ass the whole way there...once securely inside his room, he took me in his arms, kissed my lips then staring into my eyes said, "I want to see you naked, Billy...get your clothes off-NOW!"
"Y-Yes, Sir," I said breathlessly.
I quickly flipped off my shoes and socks...he immediately began to unbutton my shirt and when he had it open, his hands caressed my chest; he fondled my breasts and pinched my nipples into hard little points...he pushed the shirt off my shoulders and threw it on a nearby chair. My hands went to the belt on my slacks but he pushed them away and slowly worked it open himself.
"The most exciting part of receiving a gift is unwrapping it," he said smiling down at me.
Oh my goodness-what a classy gentleman-most of my motel encounters with men I barely knew consisted of them simply saying, "Get your ass naked and on the bed!"
His smile widened when it took him extra effort to pull the zipper down over my throbbing erection.
My slacks dropped to the floor and as I stepped out of them, I was about to push down my red and white striped, string bikini briefs when he stopped me.
"Ohhh, nice," he said with a grin. "What cute little boy-panties...leave those on...for now."
I stood before him in my undies and waited while his eyes drank in the white flesh of my trembling body.
It is for moments like this, John, I thought, why all those sit-ups are worthwhile.
He took me in his arms and kissed me hard. His hands roamed my body, massaging and squeezing my flesh.
"Oh my," he gasped, "...your body is as soft as any woman I have ever touched...no chest hair, and very little hair anywhere else...is this natural, or by design?"
I blushed at his words. "It's natural," I said.
What little body hair I have, had been a huge source of embarrassment for me when I showered with the guys after gym class in high school...but now I was happy because men seem to love this look...I've considered removing all my body hair, but it doesn't seem right-I'm not a woman and don't aspire to be one either-I am a gay MAN, and unless a lover wants my body clean shaven, I want to hang onto some semblance of my maleness.
He took my hand and led me further into a living room area.
My goodness-it's a suite...and large one, at that.
I saw an open door to my left, it was an adjoining room, Ben quickly, and wordlessly, closed the door and locked it.
He must not be alone here, I thought.
I saw a long sofa and an ice bucket next to it with the neck of a bottle protruding from the ice.
"I'm going into the bedroom and change into something more comfortable-why don't you open the champagne and pour us two glasses," he said.
I remembered the little game we were playing and replied, "Yes, Sir!"
My response amused him. He chuckled then gave me a quick kiss and pinched my butt through my briefs. He lowered his eyes to my crotch where my boner pushed-out the cotton fabric of my briefs, and the wet stain of my leaking pre-cum was growing larger.
He smiled and said, "Try to control yourself while I'm gone."
I blushed and replied, "Yes, Sir!"
I removed the foil from the bottle, worked the cork upwards, and waited for him to reappear in the living room.
He was wearing a perfect-fitting silk, rich burgundy colored robe that emphasized his chest and broad shoulders...I smiled at him and using my thumbs, worked the cork until we heard the loud POP! and watched it sail across the room.
I poured two glasses and he joined me on the sofa. His free hand once again roamed over my chest and thighs.
"I can't get over how soft you feel...it's very sexy," he said.
"I'm glad you like it, Sir," I replied.
I gushed over the size and expensive furnishings of the suite then said, "I'll bet you have a nice house in Dallas...do you live alone?"
"My assistant lives with me...we do much of our work from home these days," he said.
"Do you go out much?" I asked. "Are there any clubs like 'Chaps' there?"
"My-my...you are an inquisitive one, aren't you?" he said with a slight smile. "I have a small circle of friends...we meet every Saturday night-we alternate hosting our parties...but to answer your question: yes, of course there are gay bars in Dallas...however, a man in my position needs to be discreet...I have been to a couple nightclubs, but do not make a habit of it."
The air conditioner kicked-in and I was hit with a sudden blast of cold air and I shivered.
