Stephen Ch. 02

He also spent time Sunday learning to take it into his throat. It started with his comment that he couldn't understand how the girls in porn did that, and when I explained it he almost immediately started practicing. I didn't press, it was fun to watch him do it himself, and he got the hang of it relatively quickly.

There was hardly a moment when we were more than four feet from each other. He slept snuggled against my chest, joined me in the shower, sat on my lap to shave me carefully, kissed me constantly, and touched me as much as possible. He even held my hand when we walked to get dinner Sunday, which took some guts given that we were in redneck-ville.

The next couple weeks followed the pattern. We quite literally fucked morning, noon, and night. Lunchtime trysts became such a routine part of our day that the timing of the break came to be determined by when he was horny as opposed to when I was hungry. I fucked him bent over the tailgate of my truck, he crawled on top of me in the passenger seat while I tried to eat, and the backseat got worked out hard and often.

There seemed to be no limit to how much he wanted me in his mouth, either, especially after a hard fucking. He'd suck me for half an hour at a time some nights, and he always got hot doing it. A lot of our work involved me sitting at a table working on the more delicate stuff; in the past while I did it he'd pretty up the rest of the job, clean out our stuff and load the truck, and hang out listening to music and chatting while I finished. Now he did the cleanup in record time and immediately crawled under the table to play with my cock while he masturbated, sometimes sucking me off and sometimes just fondling, kissing, and sucking it for what seemed like half the afternoon.

Where his priorities were, sexually, was made clear one evening while we fooled around. I'm not a one-way bastard, even with an obvious bottom like him, and I was giving him head on the bed when he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back.

"Hey, seme, don't take this the wrong way, you give the best head I've ever gotten, but I'm bored. Turn around and let me do you, too, or stick your finger in my ass or something."

"You're bored?" I laughed. "That's the first time I've ever heard that."

"I think I've got blowjob ADD or something," he said with a grin. "C'mon, let me get you hard. I need to get fucked."

"Yeah, it's been what, six or seven hours since I fucked that pretty little ass? You must be in withdrawal!"

"You say that like you're kidding."

After that, contact between me and his cock was foreplay or just a part of the main event, never the deed itself. Not that there wasn't a lot of it, but I always made sure I wasn't just entertaining myself.

His preferred way to cum was without directly stimulating his cock very much. Sometimes he'd grab it when he reached the point and sometimes he liked me to, but often enough he'd stop my hand when I tried. He just wanted one of our hands resting on him or softly petting him.

I always enjoy learning a new lover, and Stephen was a lot of fun.

A week later we laid in bed on Saturday morning, resting between rounds of energetic loving.

"Hey, Ken?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"Do you... with a guy..." He lifted himself up a little, propping himself on an elbow on my chest to look down at me.

"How many guys have you been with?" he finally asked.

"Oh, hell," I said with a grin. "Not this conversation."

"No," he laughed. "I don't mean that. I mean... I'm not even sure what I want to ask. I guess... does it feel different with someone who's stronger than you?"

"Don't really know, I was eighteen the last time I experienced it. I'm attracted to twinks and smaller guys. In the last fifteen years I've only been with one guy as strong as me, at least to go all the way with. And he was like you in bed, he liked to be done. I rarely felt his strength in any meaningful way."

"Like me... is it, like, unmanly for me to like you inside me so much?"

"I hope not, since I like having someone inside me, too." I smiled. "Seriously, no, at least not to me. You've gotta get over this arbitrary role bullshit. Male, female, manly, unmanly, top, bottom, who cares? Find what makes you happy and go with it, 'cause life's too fucking short. I can introduce you to some pretty big, rough guys who like to be on the receiving end."

"It's not just the actual fucking, though. It's like..." He paused a long moment. "I like you on top of me. I like your arms around me. I like how strong they are. I like being curled up on your shoulder or against your chest. I love it when you hold me and kiss me, and when you just kind of move me around where you want me. You almost toss me sometimes."

"I do toss you sometimes." I thought a second. "I don't know, honey. I know that you have, or had, a lot of insecurity, which means a lot of nerves and even fear. And feeling secure is an incredible thing when you haven't. Generally that has to do with a lot of complex emotional stuff like trust and love of self and lots of other things, but there's also a physical component. I can't help with the stuff you have to work through, but I imagine feeling my affection and acceptance and knowing you're emotionally safe with me, that I'll never try to hurt you, is causing some good dynamics in you. And my arms and embrace put a physical manifestation to that."

I touched his face and smiled again.

"Feeling safe and warm feels good to everybody," I went on. "And feeling lusted after feels good to everybody. And being taken feels good to everybody, it's intense and very emotional, and I suspect I'm the first to do it to you, male or female."

"For sure."

"I had a period of my life, pretty boy, where I figured out who I was. Part of that was dealing with my sexuality, and I'd have had a hard time coming to grips with it if I didn't just relax and see where it took me. Or if I didn't have a partner in my exploration who loved me and was on her own journey. This is your chance. If you're looking for my advice, just go with it. Do what feels good, emotionally and physically, and keep what feels good after, what makes you feel good looking back on it, I mean. Do you have any regrets?"

"No. Hell no."

"Nor about liking being a bottom, for lack of a term without connotations you know I don't mean?"

"No," he said after a long pause. "I like it. I love it. I love your arms around me, I love your cock in me, I love having you on top of me."

"Good." I smiled. "I like this new Stephen. Much more of a human being than the old one. It takes strength to deal with the fact that you like all that stuff, I'm proud of you. Gives me a warm fuzzy. And it turns me on no end, of course."

He climbed up on top of me with a grin.

"Of course. You like it when I say what I like?" He leaned down to kiss me with each thing he named. "I love your kiss. Even your lips are strong. I love putting my arms around your neck. I love touching your shoulders."

The list went on for a minute, body part by body part, until I interrupted with a smile and a groan.

"You're driving me crazy, pretty boy," I said. His eyes widened for an instant and he smiled, just a cute little grin.

"And you love it when I say you're pretty," I said with a grin of my own. He laughed and blushed.

"Come on, say it. Tell me you like it when I say you're pretty."

"I love it when you say I'm pretty," he said with what was nearly a giggle. I kissed him, smiling.

"Say it," I said again.

"I love it when you say I'm pretty," he laughed, blushing and kissing me. I made him say it maybe half a dozen more times as we fucked, the entire encounter defined by laughter and play.

"Yeah, I definitely prefer this Stephen," I said quietly in the afterglow. "This pretty Stephen, I mean."

"Yeah," he said with a laugh, followed by a contented sigh. "Me too, actually."