17. Ben
17
Ben
I haven’t given much thought to blow jobs as a whole. I honestly never understood what the fuss was about. Sherri did it now and again; it was perfectly nice but nothing earth-shattering. I had performed oral sex on Sherri as well. The exercise was unobjectionable but certainly not something that would cause me to come. Coming on the floor with one or two pulls as Trey tugged my hair and called me good wasn’t even something I thought was a possibility.
Afterward, Trey drags me up onto his lap and holds me, running his hand up and down my back, and I all but melt. I didn’t know that was possible either, being held and feeling safe this way. We’re both still hanging out of our pants. He’s shirtless, and I have drying semen on my face, but I nuzzle into his shoulder anyway. Trey seems pretty happy about what we just did, which makes me happy, but I feel warm, satisfied, and complete, too, in a way that has nothing to do with what Trey is feeling, and that is a first for me.
I didn’t dislike having sex before, but with Sherri, it was usually for her. I tried to make her happy, but there were times when my body didn’t care to participate fully. I didn’t mind if I didn’t orgasm, but she would get upset. She wanted me to feel a certain way, and often I just didn’t. She never tried to make me feel bad, but I could tell it upset her, which made me less enthusiastic to even start.
When she sat me down and explained that she couldn’t live in a marriage with no passion, I was sad that I couldn’t be everything she needed, but I was also a little relieved. I was sure someone else would be able to give her the passion she needed, and I had been right. Mitch matched her in every way that mattered.
Trey made me feel more in one encounter than I can remember feeling in the sum of sexual experiences up to now.
I don’t know what to do with this.
“You okay?” Trey asks.
I realize I had been thinking very hard for a while, drying come and all.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just– Yeah. I’m fine. That was good. Did you like that?” I ask.
Trey chuckles. “Yeah, I liked that a lot. You just got really quiet in the last few minutes, and I wanted to make sure you’re still good with everything.” The soothing hand is still there, big and warm through my shirt.
I straighten enough in his lap to smile into his eyes. “I am more than good,” I say before I kiss him.
We wind up sharing a shower after we untangle ourselves, slippery, soapy hands running over each other, and gentle kisses, but we don’t take it any farther.
We’re both tired, and I don’t really want to be apart from him, but I’m not sure I’m ready to share a bed yet, either. Like maybe it should be slower than that? A few more dates, at least, and besides that, should I move into his room, or should he move into mine? Maybe the default would be him moving into mine, but his bed is just as nice as mine, and was it a little presumptive to assume that he’d come to my room anyway?
“Ben?” Trey interrupts my overthinking.
“Sorry!” I scrub my face with my palms. I tell him what I was thinking, wincing a little at how it sounds out loud, and he chuckles.
“This is why you’re such a good guy,” he says when I finish. “And I’d be happy to move into your bed if that’s what the ultimate decision is.”
“When do we make the decision?” I ask.
Trey lifts one shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in this situation before.”
He kisses me good night at my door, and I watch him go up the stairs. I think we’ll make that decision together, sooner rather than later.
***
A morning kiss when we meet in the kitchen turns out to be a wonderful way to start the day, and I’m hoping for another when Trey gets home from work. He works the same days each week at the shelter, but his volunteer shifts and clinic hours rotate. The day after I went down on him for the first time, he works at the shelter and comes home late. I am still up, reading a mystery in the living room and waiting with part of my attention. The dogs go running for the door before I’m even sure the car I hear is his. I get up to pour him a cup of the tea I made. “Hello,” I smile when he makes it past the dog love fest in the entry.
Trey smiles back tiredly. It’s later than I realized. Between his volunteer and paid shifts, he had covered a double today. I leave his tea on the counter to hug him, and he hums contentedly.
“Did you have a good day?” I ask, holding on.
“Yeah, it was good. I helped out with a pop-up vaccine clinic at the shelter, so I saw a lot of different faces and passed out a lot of flyers about resources.” He nuzzles his face into my neck, and I shiver when I feel first his lips drag against my skin for a moment, then his breath as he inhales and continues. “Someone who used to come to the shelter came through to get their vaccines and told me that they had found temporary housing and a job, though they weren’t sure if it would last long enough for them to get completely on their feet again. I was happy to hear that. I had wondered about them since they stopped coming. You always hope it’s because they don’t need us anymore, but that isn’t always why.”
“I hope the temporary spot holds out long enough for them to save enough for a security deposit and everything,” I say. Trey doesn’t seem like he is in any hurry for me to let go, so I stay where I am and hold him.
Trey hums in agreement. “Me too. At any rate, he has a better chance of not missing work because of flu and other illnesses now. That’s something. It’s hard to keep diseases at bay when you don’t have regular access to clean water and soap, which is why we try to hold these vaccination clinics whenever we are able to get a clinic or pharmacy to sponsor it, even if it’s not exactly ‘flu season.’”
I pull back enough to kiss his lips lightly. “You seem like you’re done for the night. Is it because it’s late, or is it because of some other reason?”
Trey sighs. “There are a couple of reasons, but it’s nothing serious.” He leans back and smiles at me. “You’re up late. Were you waiting for me?”
I return his smile. “Maaaybe,” I drawl.
His smile turns playful. “Why ever for?”
“This,” I say and draw him into a soft kiss. He moans against my mouth, the quiet sound making me happy that I waited up for him. The way he held onto me while he told me about his day had already made me glad, but this? This made it even better.
We stand and kiss for a few moments, then sit down on the sofa where Trey drinks his tea and I snuggle him into my side. I run my fingers up and down his bicep as we sit, and the quiet, easy calm that descends over us is as sweet as the passion.
I’ve been making an effort to be around when Trey comes home, whether at dinner time or later, since shortly after he moved in. Now, the reward is so much better, and he seems to appreciate it so much that I make a point to do it every night. Sometimes, Trey accepts a kiss and goes upstairs to shower. Other times, we go to the sofa and have a cuddle or – my favorite – a make-out session.
Objectively, I kind of feel like it should have taken longer to get used to sex with a body so unlike what I was used to, but I’ve taken to it like a duck to water – in fact, there are several things that I like better about Trey’s body than I liked about female bodies. I’m trying not to compare this to what I had with Sherri. It seems unkind, somehow, but it’s definitely giving me a new perspective on my marriage. I like how visible everything is. Is he turned on? Oh, look. Yes, he is. It cuts down on the guesswork about if he is actually having a good time. It’s like instant feedback that I’m doing a good job. That this is one of the things Sherri dealt with, but in the opposite direction, was not lost on me. Once we’ve shared a few more intimate moments, I understand far better why she would get upset when I simply didn’t get or stay erect when we were together. I could very easily picture myself being hurt if Trey was apparently not interested in me, even if he was going along for the ride. I need to make another trip to Sherri’s cute little cottage for another heart-to-heart soon. Even if I never meant to hurt her or make her feel bad about herself, I know now that I owe her an apology.
The contrast between what is and what was is part of what makes me appreciate Trey so much. He’s delightfully affectionate now that he feels that he has permission, and I am soaking it up as much as he is. We cuddle, kiss, hug, snuggle, and share to our hearts’ content over the next week. Each day is better and more comfortable than the one before it, and mid-week, I welcome him home with steaks on the grill and a hand job for dessert on the deck. He smiles lazily with his head on my shoulder afterward. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and stroke his stomach lightly.
“You’re a menace,” he says in a way that makes me feel giddy. I want to be his menace.
“I try,” I say, aiming for nonchalance. I don’t think I hit anywhere close to the mark, but he chuckles anyway and kisses me.
Trey helps me clean up from dinner, then drags me onto the sofa and into his lap, kneading my ass through my jeans again. I’ve noticed how good those big hands feel on my ass, and it’s been giving me ideas. Before long, the kissing means I’m not thinking about anything besides Trey’s mouth as it trails down my neck while his fingers pop shirt buttons. He pushes the shirt off me and runs his hands up my ribcage, brushes his thumbs over my nipples, and smiles slyly when I jump.
“Did I find something good?” he asks, pulling his fingertips down my sides and taking the same course back up to my nipples. I jump again when he thumbs them and resist the urge to cover his hands with mine to still them. It’s good, but new and almost too much.
“Maybe,” I say, but anything else is short-circuited right out of my mind by Trey grinning devilishly and pinching my nipples. I gasp, suddenly utterly and consumingly turned on.
“Yes?” he asks, dropping his voice. He knows and completely exploits how much I like it when he drops his voice as low as he can – which is very, very low, oh god, so very low – and talks dirty to me. “Did you like that, Ben? I haven’t done that before, and it seems like it was a serious oversight on my part.” He rolls my nipples gently, and my body arches toward his hands with no input from my brain.
“Yeah? Yes? I need to hear it, beautiful,” he coaxes.
“Yes!” I gasp, my hands flexing on his shoulders as he tortures me. It’s good torture, the sensation edging toward too much in the very best way. I want to throw myself at his mercy and let him do anything he wishes. I have every confidence that whatever he desires, I would love it.
“I’ve been dreaming about you in my bed,” Trey continues. “I’ve been dreaming about my mouth on every inch of you. I’ve been dreaming about–” And holy Christ in heaven, his hot, wet, warm mouth seals over one small, erect bud and sucks, and I feel a spurt of pre-come wet my underwear.
He sucks and laves it for a long moment while I hold onto his shoulders for dear life, then switches sides and provides the same devotion to that one, too. By the time he’s done, I’m rocking helplessly in his lap, trying to find friction for my almost painful erection. I had no idea that my nipples and my dick had a direct line of communication.
His pupils are blown wide, and he bares his teeth in an almost feral grin. “I haven’t gotten to taste you yet, Ben. Your skin is delicious, I’m sure the rest of you is, too. Don’t you think we should change that?”
I nod rapidly, pretty sure that he just asked to give me a blow job, and I am proved right the next moment when he slides me off his lap and onto the sofa and slithers to the floor between my legs.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he says eagerly as he unbuttons and unzips me. He pulls my jeans and underwear down and off while I shift around to help him. I’m naked on the sofa now, and the contrast between us as he kneels in front of me in board shorts and a T-shirt is arousing, although I want to touch his skin badly enough that I slide my hands under the arms of his shirt to hold on to his shoulders. He leans in and catches a drop of pre-come from the tip of my dick on his tongue, then drags it softly along my slit.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe.
Trey chuckles in his chest and runs his tongue around the top, tracing the shape of the head of my dick as his hand slowly jacks lower on the shaft. “Ben, do you want to be good for me?” he asks, looking at me through his lashes.
“Jesus Christ, yes,” I respond instantly.
He smiles. “Good. I want you to put your hands on your thighs right here,” he says. He shows me where he wants them and nods when I immediately obey. “Now you need to keep them there, do you understand?”
I nod quickly.
“Very good. You’re so good for me,” he purrs, stretching tall to kiss me. I can taste myself on his tongue when he licks into my mouth, and I whine softly.
He smiles in response. “Hands where I left them, and remember that I want you to come… but not too quickly.” He winks at me and sucks on both my nipples again on his way back down to my dick.
I read up on technique, and I think I delivered pretty damn well, especially for the first time. If what I did to him was decent, what he is doing to me is mindblowing.
He starts slow and wet and works up to a corkscrew pattern with his hand up to meet his mouth. It makes me squirm, and it feels like each pull dragged me closer to the precipice. I do my best to keep my hands where he told me to, but as I get closer and closer, it feels like I’m about to burst out of my skin, and my hands fly to his head of their volition, opening and closing in his locs desperately.
He pops off my dick, and I groan raggedly.
“I told you where to keep your hands, Ben,” he says, and the way his voice rasps makes my dick twitch.
“I’m sorry,” I say wholeheartedly, hoping he doesn’t plan on stopping completely.
He hums, running his hands up and down the tops of my thighs, and kisses me. His hand finds my dick as he licks along my lower lip, and I open my mouth wide. He does a version of the corkscrew move he had been doing and sucks lightly on my tongue, my relieved moan making him chuckle and sit back on his heels. He smiles at me, coy and so very lovely, his dark eyes crinkling lightly at the corners and his full lips swollen from sucking me.
“Please, more?” I ask hopefully, watching his smile morph into a full-on grin.
“You asked so nicely,” he concedes and goes back to the mind-blowingly good suck-and-twist combination. I gasp and clench my fists, fighting not to move my hands again. My self-control is rewarded; he takes me even more deeply into his throat, his wet, tight fingers all the way down to the root of my dick and his throat working around the head. His other hand reaches back to fondle my balls, and I’m gone. He swallows, working me through my orgasm, and as the last pulse spurts out, he once again drags his tongue through my slit and sits back with a pleased smile.
My fists loosen, and my hands fall to the side as the rest of my body lolls in utter relaxation. He straightens up on his knees and nudges between my legs to kiss me gently. “So good,” he purrs in my ear, nuzzles my neck, and I whimper.
***
Everything Trey and I do together is better than the last thing, and I can’t help but fantasize about more. I know that I want to be in an actual bed, naked with him, but after that, the details get a little bit fuzzy. I know the very basics of anal sex, but I don’t know enough to know what to ask for. So, in between client meetings and work, I set out to learn as much as I can.
After reading a couple of dry but informative guides, I feel like I understand the basics pretty well - lots of lube, use condoms, don’t do anything that really hurts, prep is important. I’m not connecting with it, though. In the past, I hadn’t had much use for porn, but it seems like this might be a good time to see things "in person," so to speak.
At first, I’m disappointed to discover that gay porn does no more for me than straight porn. The two men having sex seem to be enjoying themselves, but watching them do it is not arousing. Instead, I’m slightly embarrassed, both for them and to be watching. I scan the thumbnails, looking for something that speaks to me. A large, darker-skinned man with locs a little longer than Trey’s catches my eye. I click eagerly on the link, and the video it leads to reveals to me everything I was looking for. The couple in the video look just enough like Trey and me that I can mentally put us in their place. That changes the whole ball game, and suddenly I understand not only what people like about porn but also what I want to do with Trey.
I want to be underneath him, pinned to the bed by his big body. I want him to lift my legs and spread me open. I want to feel him all the way inside of me, pounding in over and over, taking pleasure from my body. The video is not long, but by the time it ends, my asshole is clenching needily around nothing, and my dick is so hard it hurts. Just remembering how his hand kneaded my ass as I sat in his lap makes me whimper.
Now that I have that picture of us in my head, I don’t want to wait another second. When I run errands that afternoon, I pick up condoms and lube. Also conveniently located in the sexual health aisle of the megastore is a display of vibrators and butt plugs. I read that plugs can be helpful for stretching and prep, so I grab a small one before I can overthink it. I opt for self-checkout to save myself some embarrassment, but nothing is going to stop me. Walking to the car, I wonder briefly if it might be worth the trouble to Google where the nearest sex shop is, but I decide I have enough supplies to start. Although that might be an interesting trip to make with Trey at some point in the future if he wants to.
Once I get home and get the groceries put away, I go to put the condoms and lube in my bedroom. The plug catches my attention, and I decide I want to see how it feels. After a fairly thorough shower, I apply lube and ease it up inside me. It’s frankly a little disappointing. There’s a sort of pleasant burn and stretch as it goes in, but then it seats itself, and, standing still, I almost can’t feel it’s there. I’m not really sure what to do next, but the clock catches my eye, and I realize I need to start the pasta for dinner. After a little internal debate, I decide to leave the plug where it is, on the assumption that if I can manage to ask Trey to take me to bed, it will help to be a little stretched.
And that is how I end up having to sit through the entire meal with the plug inside me.
Trey came in, kissed me as I was cooking, and headed up to shower, reappearing a short while later in a white T-shirt that makes his arms look sexy as all hell, grey sweats that hide nothing , and a knowing grin. I swallow and plate the pasta and veggies.
I join Trey at the table and realize that though the plug is small, it completely changes everything when I sit. No matter how I shift, it puts pressure right on my prostate. The jolts of pleasure every time I move are disconcerting, but I’m not quite ready to admit to Trey what’s going on. I let out a long breath that I sucked in at the first unexpected jolt of pleasure, and pick up my fork. Trey’s eyes are on me.
“Did you have a good day, Ben?” he asks, forking up chicken.
I nod. “Yeah, really good. I did some research, had a couple of client meetings, and finished an audit that I needed to do.”
Trey smiles. “That’s great. Anything else?”
I shake my head, clenching around the plug to try and keep it still when the motion of my head makes it move inside me. The predatory look that comes over Trey steals my breath for a minute.
This night might end exactly how I imagined.