Eat It, Boy

It's Monday, and Mondays always seem to suck. I suspect that it is a universal experience, returning to work after a couple of days off. It kind of highlights all the "have-to's" and makes things seem less fun. For my job there are lots of extra tasks piled onto Mondays to make them even more of a pain in the ass. So, I am not leaping into this day with joy and enthusiasm.

I log on early in the morning to check email and don't find anything interesting in any of my mailboxes. I log off and do my usual morning chores: make lunch for my partner and send him off to work, load and start the dishwasher, do some general straightening and puttering.

My partner and I have been together for over twenty years, and sexually open for fifteen of those. We consider ourselves married even though it's not legal. Someday maybe it will be. We're both very sexual creatures and have enjoyed the security of a committed relationship and the freedom to play and explore on the side.

I'm in my mid-forties and pretty much just an average gay white guy. I am 5'9", brown hair, green eyes, somewhat boyish face, clean shaven. I am naturally smooth with very little body hair. My dick is an average five inches or so. I have a smooth bubble butt that likes lots of attention.

I've had three serious relationships. The first two were when I was younger and both were about two years each. In the first one, we were just figuring things out, and I guess I'd have been considered versatile. In the second, I was very much a top. In my marriage, I'd be considered a bottom, except that we don't play that way very often. The sex is good, but mostly oral and mutual masturbation and body contact. Good sex, but vanilla. Oh, and I'm a lucky guy because hubby has a big dick.

About eighteen months ago, I started having vivid fantasies about being dominated. Because of our open relationship, I was able to explore this a bit, and got lucky. I found a couple of expert players who introduced me to rougher sex and being submissive in a safe and gentle way. Somewhere in the middle of this journey, I hooked up with Matt, meeting him on Manhunt.

The first meeting was just a regular hook-up, nothing notable. We traded sucks and played with each others' asses. He's about a year younger than me, dark hair, dark eyes, mustache and goatee, muscular frame with light hair on his chest. He played a little rough that first time, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Oh, except that Matt also has a big cut dick. It is very similar in size to my partner's, but a little longer and the head is slightly larger. I can swallow hubby's dick all the way down to the base but Matt's is just bigger enough to prevent my doing the same with him.

After a few months we got together a second time, Matt and I. It was planned that I would bottom for him. I did and it was good. It was really good; good enough for Matt to want to come back even though he usually doesn't play with guys more than a couple of times. He says he likes to "Fuck 'em and chuck 'em."

We started talking online about my exploring my submissive side and it turned out that Matt was wanting to explore his dominant side. So we made another date and things got a little rough, and we both liked what happened. A lot. We played again, several times, sometimes including one or another guy. We always have a great time.

Our online discussions also became frequent and heated, and at one point while exploring some of our mutual fantasies, he called me "boy." It was as if that word was connected directly to my dick. It drove me crazy. I let him know, and soon enough, Matt was calling me "his boy" and I was calling him "my man." These labels seemed to fit our dom/sub explorations better than daddy/boy or sir/boy or master/slave. Matt is neither a daddy nor a sir. But he is a strong, sexy, masculine man.

We've also discovered a sort of romantic tenderness, and our couplings have evolved into a mix of rough sex and passionate lovemaking. This is new territory for both of us, fantastic new territory.

I work from home, and have for about a year now. I telecommute to a job that is about 700 miles away. It's a much better situation than I had previously, where I spent hours in the car commuting every day. Working from home also means I can enjoy some playtime easily.

But with working from home comes new issues. If I'm not careful, I'll sit around in my t-shit and underwear all day. Hubby will call to say he's on his way home and I'll jump in the shower and get dressed at the end of the day. I've tried to be better about the whole thing lately, so I've recently added a morning shower to my routine. That also helps when I get lucky and find someone on Manhunt or craigslist who wants to play right away. The shower always helps get me going, too; something I really need on Monday mornings.

After my shower, I log back on to Manhunt, as I usually do, and sign on to work. I usually keep Manhunt running in the background as I work, just in case. Yeah, I'm a horndog.

I review the material I need to be familiar with for the daily conference call at 10. I look for Matt online and don't see him. I catch myself sighing. I've come to count on online back-and-forth with Matt. It makes me feel closer to him, and I have to admit, also eases the daily tedium. He's become a big part of my life.

The conference call is the usual dullness. At least there aren't any emergencies on top of the regular things. We finish by 10:30, miracle of miracles. I look for Matt online again, and he's still not there. I feel a twinge, a physical pang deep in the root of my belly. Visceral. Missing him. An ache. A need.

My cell phone rings and I expect it to be hubby. I look and it is Matt calling. I wonder what's up, since he rarely calls me. I'm married. He's married. He works in an office about an hour away. Calling isn't part of our regular contact.

My heart races as my mind immediately jumps to "something's wrong." I answer and cannot even begin to control my nerves.

"Hello." My voice cracks as I say it.

Immediately Matt picks up on my nerves. "Hey, boy. It's your man. Nothing's wrong. I had to drive down your way for work and thought I'd come over and surprise you."

My nerves change to excitement. "Great! What time should I expect you?"

"Now."

I am confused. I start to ask.

He interrupts, "I drove over after my errand. I'm just around the corner. Two minutes, max." He hangs up.

"My day just got a whole lot better," I think as I rush to straighten things up a bit, so we're not having to play amidst the papers from work. I hear his car in the drive; he wasn't kidding about being close by. I run down the stairs in time to see him get out of his car.

I am again taken aback by how sexy he is. My breath catches in my throat. I open the door. Matt says hi and smirks, reading my obvious excitement. His smirk is an adorable half-smile that makes his eyes twinkle and his sexiness go through the roof.

He walks through the open door and turns to shut it. I cannot wait any longer and need to kiss him right away. I step closer and lean in; he puts his hand on my chest, holding me back, and says firmly, "Down, boy."

I must look like he slapped me. He smirks. I start to say something and he puts his index finger over my lips and makes a shushing sound. I start to protest and Matt presses a little more firmly. I pull back from his finger and then try for a kiss again, my ache is palpable.

Matt pushes me back again. "I said, 'Down, boy!'" The sound of his voice has a sharp edge. He looks at me, raising his eyebrows, mocking my surprise and confusion. Another smirk; his eyes are twinkling.

Matt leans in very close to me, his lips right next to my ear, and he says in a very low growly voice, "I'm here to make my final claim, boy. You ready? Cuz you're going to eat my load today."

I grab him and pull him close, and again try to kiss him, to show my assent. But Matt's hands grab my upper arms. He holds me tight, and with his lips near my ear, louder now he says, "I said, 'Down, boy!' and I meant it. Now take of your fucking clothes and get down on the floor." He squeezes my arms hard, and then pushes me back from him.

Matt takes me by the shoulders, turns me around and walks me into the living room. I feel a sharp slap on my ass. "Now, boy!"

He stands there, staring at me, and I strip off my clothes. I start making it a little tease, and he says sharply, "Make it quick, boy. I don't have all day."

I strip fast and stand completely naked in front of him, feeling bare and vulnerable. He still has his clothes on.

"Now, down, boy," he repeats.

I look confused because I've not tried to kiss him again, even though the need is almost blinding now.

"Down, on your hands and knees, boy. I want to see you crawl up the stairs. I want to admire that pretty little ass before you take care of me. Cuz you know, you're going to eat my load, boy. Claiming you as mine, boy. My boy. My cocksucker. My good cocksucking boy."

I get down on the floor and start to crawl. Matt steps right behind me and bends down and gives my ass a sharp slap. I yelp, and I wonder briefly if the neighbors can see us; and that thought turns me on. I already feel precum wetness on the tip of my cock. I start crawling and hope that I'm not leaving a trail of dick drool on the hardwood floor.

"Fuck yeah, look at that little ass, crawling on the floor, my boy, for his man. My hole. That's my hole. Fuck yeah, your bubble butt looks so good pushed up in the air like that." Matt keeps up a string of verbal commentary as I crawl up the stairs. As soon as I get far enough up the stairs to be at his level, he leans in and puts his face right in my ass crack and gives it a big wet lick. I groan and stop crawling and try to push back against his mouth. Matt slaps my ass, hard this time, and tell me to keep going.

When I get upstairs, he say, "Don't stand up, boy. You stay down there, cuz I'm going to feed you what you need."

I groan as Matt starts to strip off his clothes. Part of my groan is that I haven't been able to touch him at all and the need is burning inside me to feel him against me, to kiss him, to please us both pressing our bodies together.

But Matt obviously has other plans. As he pulls off his pants, I see his hard dick spring out and up. He's ready for this.

His naked body is in front of me and I drink it in with my eyes. I love his hairy legs, his tight ass, his muscles, his stocky strong torso, his strong hands and arms. I make it up to his face and can read the need in his eyes. They aren't twinkling and laughing anymore; now they are dark and hungry.

Matt steps closer and asks, "Ready, boy?"

I nod, looking up into his face.

"Take it. Suck it. Taste your man."

I lean forward a little bit and reach up with my hand to guide his dick toward me. He smacks my hand away.

"No hands, boy. And don't touch your dick either. I want you all needy and achy hanging off the end of my dick, you fucking cocksucker."

I move my mouth to the end of his dick. I will tease it just a little, maybe tap under the head with my tongue like he likes, and then slowly slide my wet warm lips over the head and down the shaft. Well, at least that's my plan. I start slow and he grabs the back of my head with his hands and slides his dick in as far as it will go.

I am caught off guard and gag and choke a bit. I try to pull back and he cuffs me on the side of the head.

"Suck my cock, boy. Suck your man's cock. Make him feel good."

Matt has never been this growly and commanding before and it is getting to me. It's making me harder and hornier. I whimper and inhale his dick as much as I can. I try to relax my throat. He moans. I must be doing it right.

The pressure from his hands on the back of my head is less so I pull back at least to catch my breath and try to relax to take more of him inside me. My own cock is hard and dripping and I want to touch myself while I do this but I remember what he commanded, and I don't.

He reaches down and grabs my right nipple with his hand. He squeezes it, hard. I groan with his dick in my mouth. Matt's working my nipple just like he knows I like. The sensations make me want even more of him inside me. Without letting go, he bends and takes my left nipple in his other hand. The way he's bending pulls his dick almost out of my mouth.

I groan at the double sharp sensation of what he is doing to my tits, and moan at the loss of his dick from my mouth. He lets go and pushes his cock back into my mouth.

Matt starts with a string of commentary again, "Fuck yeah, boy. That's good. That's my good boy. Suck your man's dick. Make your man happy. I'm going to feed my hungry boy. Is that what you want? You want me to feed my boy? That's what I'm going to do. Feed my hungry cocksucker boy."

I can tell he's zoning already, fucking my mouth as I work to take him in with every thrust. I want more than anything to be his good boy and to make him happy. My dick is hard and dripping a constant stream of precum. I need to touch it so badly, but I don't. I can feel it throbbing in time with his thrusts into my mouth.

Every time he pulls his dick out, I exhale; then inhale on the thrust forward. Inhaling seems to help me get more of his cock in my throat, and also delivers a heady dose of his musky scent. I wish I could keep that smell for the times when we're apart. It drives me wild. I look up to see how I'm doing when he pulls back once, and I can see that he's really enjoying this.

All of my senses are filled with Matt. I can see the treasure trail of hair from his navel to his neatly trimmed pubic hair. I can smell him. My mouth is full of his taste. My ears are filled with his constant dirty talk and the sounds of my slurping and breathing. I can feel his cock in my mouth, hot and velvety. I can feel the head press against the back of my throat. I can feel the shaft with its veins, sliding over my tongue.

I feel his cock grow just a bit and his balls pull up and his breathing changes.

"Boy! I'm going to shoot, boy. You ready to eat my load?"

I groan my assent. That was fast. I must be doing a good job, and he was obviously horned up. I've seen him cum, how many times now? It's never enough. But I know from experience what is going to happen and so I reach around and grab onto his ass to hang on. If I'm going to take Matt's load, I have to be ready for the wild ride.

But, I don't want his cock head to be all the way back in my throat because I want to feel the cum as it shoots out into me. I want to taste his jizz. So I pull back just a bit and lay the entire length of my tongue down the bottom of his shaft just as the first huge pulse shoots out.

Matt almost screams as it happens. "Unngh. Unngh. Oh, fuck. Unngh. Ah. Fuck. Yeah, yeah, yeah."

A string of incoherent animal sounds flies from his mouth as the waves of pleasure crash over him and take him away. I hang on for dear life, and I feel every one of those waves in my mouth. I know that even though he is away, lost somewhere in a universe of pleasure; he is also very much right here, right here with me, in me, becoming me. I've done this to him. He is mine.

I swallow and there is more. I swallow again. There is still more. I swallow again, but a bit drips down my chin.

I hold his cock in my mouth, caressing it with my lips and tongue. As the spasms subside, I move his dick deeper again into my mouth and continue to milk it gently. Intense feelings of pleasure wash over him. I know he is feeling really good right now, and it's my doing. That gives me satisfaction even as my hard dick throbs between my legs, ignored.

Matt slowly pulls his dick from my mouth. Then he leans down and put his hands under my arms and lifts gently, an indication for me to stand up. I do.

He looks into my eyes and then sees the drip on my chin.

"You missed a bit here," and he scoops it up with his index finger and puts it in my mouth. I suck his finger and he groans. He pops his finger out of my mouth. "Now you're my good boy. My good cocksucking boy. And I'm your man."

I smile and nod. My dick is against his thigh and makes a wet streak of precum.

Matt says, "Now, I have to go." He bends over and picks up his clothes to start putting them on. I think I whimper or moan or something. He looks at me and smirks. I am so fucking horny I don't know what I just did. I cannot believe that he's leaving.

He says, "I see you have a big problem there." He motions toward my dick and smirks again. "No touching that until I get back to work and email you instructions."

"What?" I ask, unable to stand even the idea of it.

"You heard what I said, boy. No touching that until I tell you what you can do. And I'll want pictures." He laughs.

I nod my agreement, knowing that he'll think of something really good for me. But I also am aware that we haven't kissed or pressed against each other and I'm about to die of need.

Matt is putting on his underwear when he notices the splash of precum on his thigh. "Clean this off, boy." He points to the spot.

I know he means that I need to lick it off, and I kneel down and do it. "That's my good boy."

He puts on his pants and I just stand there, watching.

"Oh, and stay naked until you hear from me. I'm on my way back to work and will email you from there." I know that's an hour from now. I groan, but say that I will do it.

I walk him back downstairs, again wondering about the neighbors. I stand at the door and again try to kiss him, and he just looks at me with a devilish smile. "No, boy."

I am surprised by this, too. I know Matt loves kissing me as much as I do him. I'm on the edge of whining now.

He laughs and says, "Come on, boy. Be my strong good boy." He reaches down and squeezes my cock.

I suspect, now, that he is just torturing me for the fun of it. He has to be able to see the need in my eyes. My need is so great it's like a third person here in the room.

He slaps me on the ass and says, "You'll hear from me soon. Don't touch it."

He turns and walks to his car. I feel all the same emotions as I do every time we're at this scene, but it is compounded by the one-sidedness of our unexpected encounter. I'm sad, excited, achy, needy, horny, and honestly, a little pissed.

He backs out onto the street and drives away. He doesn't even look to see me standing in the doorway, naked, not even caring about the neighbors at this point. I turn when I lose sight of his car and go back inside. I walk back upstairs, wondering what I can do to distract myself for the hour it's going to take until I get his instructions and can get off. I think I'll at least set up the camera and tripod; he said he'd want pictures. Then I can check in with work and see if there's stuff for me to do.

Upstairs, I find a pool of precum from me on the carpet. I get a towel and clean it up. I wipe the last drips from my dick with my finger and put them in my mouth to mingle my taste with his. If I inhale, I can still smell Matt, just a bit, his scent lingering in my mouth and in the room.

I hear a car pull into the drive. I look out. It's Matt. He's back. I make a quick scan of the room. Did he leave his wallet? Cell phone? Sunglasses? Watch? Something else? I don't see anything.

I run downstairs again, but he's already at the door. I open the door and Matt is standing there grinning.

"What? Did you forget something?" I ask.

"Only this," he says, and he walks back in and kisses me, fully; our tongues wrapped around each other, our arms wrapped around each other, our hungry mouths pressing into each other as deeply as we can get. My dick is rubbing against him and I worry that he'll have a stain. I break from the kiss and point this out.