Date: Sun, 31 Mar 2013 11:20:31 -0500 From: J W Subject: Sir (gay/authoritarian, oral, dom/sub) DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction based on true events and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts of two men over the age of 25. It contains graphic scenes of sex between consenting adult males... If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it. Author's Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to re- post them at your own site, please contact the author for permission. If it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you find the topic distasteful the please leave now. Copyright 2013 FriscoBear1972, All rights reserved. Please contact me at FriscoBear1972@gmail.com if you like. Flames will very likely be ignored. *** I kneel in the living room of my apartment, my hands resting on the soft carpeting. The place is dark and quiet, but not just because of the blindfold I am wearing. I have turned out the lights. The darkness makes the illicit thrill of what I am doing more potent, more taboo. This isn't my first time waiting for Sir to arrive and take his pleasure with me. My stomach churns. My heart beats wildly. After all this time, I still feel the excitement building. From that first experience until tonight, the anticipation has never abated. My phone vibrates from the coffee table in the next room. Sir is on his way. Sir and I live in the same high-rise in Chicago, as it happens. We met one evening anonymously through a Smartphone app. I have only seen Sir's chest, smooth and muscled, in a picture, the grooves and indentations of his abdominals worthy only of solemn worship from a Boy like me. Other than that grainy rendering on the screen of my phone, I have not laid eyes on Sir, and we both enjoy the freedom that anonymity affords us. I often wonder as I ride the elevator down to the lobby or wash clothes in the laundry room, whether Sir might be one of the people there working, minding his own business, enjoying the fact that I am oblivious to his presence. Though I have not seen him, I know Sir's body better than most. I have explored him with my hands, with my tongue. I have tasted him both when he was freshly showered and when he was only just home from a workout, my tongue eagerly lapping at the salt on his tall frame. *** In the stillness, my thoughts wander back to that first night; that first sacrificial offering of my body to Sir's needs, when I knelt, breathless, upon the hardwood entryway of my apartment, waiting for the door to open. Sir would never knock, naturally. Why should he? He never needed my permission. He knew well enough the depths from which I craved what he offered, how wordlessly and instantly I would give him anything he wished to take. I can still remember the sound of his footsteps approaching within 28th floor hallway, the sudden puff of air from the opening door, and the soft click as it shut behind him. He walked forward and stood there. I could hear little more than the two of us breathing. I raised my hands into the air in front of me. Strong hands grasped mine and guided them to his hips, leaving them there to wander where they might. I felt upward first, lifting the light, parachute-like material of his top. He pulled the top off completely, allowing it to fall by his side. My fingers played over the muscles of his chest, the pecs wide and solid, biceps strong and shapely, standing out from his uppers arms under my exploring hands. I leaned forward to kiss the rippling abs, allowing my lips to linger against their smooth tightness. After a moment, I slid the elastic waistband of the sweats down over smooth buttocks, tight, muscular thighs and striated, rock hard calves. His hands found the back of my head and pulled me forwarded, slowly but with unmistakable authority. And that's how it began, this habit, this ritual of ours. The next minutes were a blur, the big head of Sir's cock touching my lips, that first electric tingle as he slid the fat shaft over my tongue and beyond; the soft, silky touch of large, shaved balls against my chin as Sir began to breed Boy's mouth. Nothing before or since has been as intensely erotic as the sensation of tasting the cock of someone I had never seen. I lost all sense of self as I became nothing more than an implement of pleasure; a toy for Sir to use. His thrusts came harder, faster with each passing second, the small room filling with the wet sounds of my sucking, the sounds of his deep, soft grunts and whispers of encouragement, punctuated by my muffled moans as Sir fed me his thick meat. When Sir finally hunched over my kneeling form, thrust his cock in deep and held it there, filling my mouth with his creamy cum, I thought I would faint. The sensation of him unloading his balls into Boy's adoring mouth, the darkness, the sense of being controlled and being in control at the same time, lent an otherworldly feel to the scene. I didn't cum. I didn't want to. I wanted to savor the role I had just played. My job was to service Sir, not to worry about my own climax. That could come later. For the moment, there was only the labored breathing of the two of us as I milked his slowly softening cock with my lips and tongue, laving its veined surface and letting the warmth of my mouth soak into the organ. At last, he withdrew, the fat head leaving my lips with an audible pop. Sir patted me on the head, saying nothing, pulled up his sweats, turned, and departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts, with the potent taste of him still on my tongue; my mind already whirling towards the next encounter, whenever that might be. It was entirely up to him. *** I return abruptly to the present as the door knob turns. By now, our actions are more open, more raw and sensuous. I have learned more about what pleases Sir; What turns him on the most. He walks through my apartment I am already shirtless. He likes that. He wastes little time, now. Before he would have had me strip him of his clothes. Now he jettisons them without hesitation. He has other plans for me tonight. I hear him sit down on the couch. I reach out. His legs are spread wide, inviting me in. As I lean forward, a small bottle is placed against my left nostril. This too I have come to enjoy. I breathe deeply, inhaling the vapors. Then again through the right nostril. My head warms, clouds, and a deep, undulating surge of lust rises from the pit of my stomach to the top of my head. With a snarl I dive forward, blinded by the cloth around my eyes but searching wildly for Sir's big cock. It's there, alright. Bobbing in the air waiting for Boy's mouth. I devour it, sucking hungrily, not bothering with the gentle suckling tease I would normally employ. Tonight I am desperate for him... desperate for that big salty-sweet load he's got inside him. He groans, holding the bottle against his own nose for a few seconds. For the next few moments, we just enjoy the scene. Sir thrusting his hard rod up into his Boy's slurping mouth and gulping throat. The poppers keep me from gagging as he uses me. The power of it only fuels my lust and I drive my head into his groin, the buzzed hair of my head brushing against his abs as they flex with each pump of his lean hips. As I suck, his legs part more widely and he slides his hips further down on the couch. It is an unmistakable invitation. one I have received many times before. I release Sir's cock from my mouth and slide my arms under his thighs. My hands find the backs of his legs and I lift, pushing his knees toward his chest. His smooth ass rises to meet me, perfect, pink and inviting. I hold him there for a moment, supporting his weight. He places the bottle under my nose and I breathe deeply, sinking further into the dark heat of my lust. I barely feel my head leaning forward. My lips touch him there, light as a feather upon the tight hole. I kiss him slowly, hungrily, his ass lips soft and pliant against my own. My tongue emerges, the passion of this moment growing, and I'm frenching him in earnest now. I slide in and out of him, the tight ring hugging my tongue. Slowly, as I lick around the entrance and lock my lips around him and savor the velvety heat him, he begins to loosen against my tongue, until I can slide all the way in with little resistance. He gasps as I hit depths difficult to reach with my tongue. I'm straining every muscle to drive the slick wet muscle further and further into his steaming insides. For a time, only my soft grunts and moans are audible as I tonguefuck Sir. I could not say how long we remain in that position with Boy worshipping Sir with his lips and squirming tongue. But our mutual desire reaches a fever pitch and he pulls away, leaning forward to push me down onto the living room carpet. I hear him stand, from my position on the floor. Behind my blindfold, I imagine his cock engorged and bobbing, his body pale and smooth, beautiful in the dimness. He moves to stand astride my chest, his ass facing me, and sits down, pressing his hole to my mouth once more, this time heavily, his hips moving back and forth, grinding against my mouth and stubbled chin. I groan, renewing the oral fuck as he leans forward and takes my own hard cock into his mouth for the first time. I gasp into his hole, reaching up to clutch at his hips and buttocks, pulling them apart so that I can gain better purchase inside. The warm wetness around my shaft drives me wild as I eat Sir out the way a Boy is supposed to. Abruptly, the lean hips rise, pulling his asshole from my sucking lips, and with a slight pivot, his cock is at my lips, then inside my mouth as he starts a slow, rhythmic, shallow pumping. Not too deep yet.. just enough that I can savor the feel of the swollen head in my mouth and play along its silky surface with my tongue, tasting the precum leaking from it. He is close. I know from experience that he is only drawing out his pleasure for a few more moments before he gives me my reward. Sir sits up, pulling his cock from my mouth and places the bottle at my nose one last time. This time, I savor the inhalation, slow and complete. Sir knows that this will relax me enough to enjoy his climax as much as he will. The bottle is aside and then his cock is back in my mouth. He leans forward supporting his weight on either side of my thighs, push-up style. Then he begins to fuck my face in earnest. His cock drives deep into my throat, pulling back before I can even react to its invasion. Sir's breaths come more quickly as he feels the hot wetness of my throat enveloping his thick cock. So close now. I am close too. I reach down, taking my own cock in my hand and jacking it roughly. I don't need lube. I like the sensation of dry fingers against my sensitive flesh. I know that when Sir cums, I will cum. It isn't a matter of desire so much as the certain knowledge that his gift to me will spark my own violent orgasm. Another minute passes as he pumps inside me. The wet sounds of my mouth and throat form a sexy counterpoint to his ragged breaths and moaning until, with a deep grunt he begins to unload. The base of his cock slams against my lips, and his balls mash against my nose. Sir is cumming in Boy's throat. He holds himself there, the spurting head of his big cock pulsing in the darkness of my living room, burrowed in the deepest part of my throat. I cum simultaneously, my own load landing on my stomach as I writhe beneath Sir's muscular body. Sir's cum seems endless, shooting in soft, creamy gushes down my gullet and into Boy's grateful belly. His body jerks, spasms. We are locked here in that moment of pleasure, neither of us able or willing to move. If only we could stay here forever in this instant of erotic precision, Boy drinking from Sir, as it was always meant to be. But such moments are not meant to last. He softens, eventually, his cock still resting within my mouth as I massage it slowly with my tongue and lips, milking the last remnants of his potent seed from meaty flesh. When, at length, he pulls free of my mouth and stands, I can only lay there, utterly spent, as he pulls on his bottoms. I am still blindfolded. His anonymity is still intact, though we have already been more intimate than many lovers I have seen and known in my lifetime. I listen, my breath slowing, as he moves away. The door to my apartment opens, then shuts. He is gone. Gone, but for the taste of him in my mouth and upon my tongue; a taste more addictive than the strongest drug. Already I want him back, to start this entire scene again, endlessly. But there will be time. There always is.