I can't stop thinking about his cock. How it feels in my hand as I stroke him to hardness, feeling the flesh swell and fill out, grow into a powerful, rigid length striped with veins. How the skin is just so velvety soft, and mobile, but the shaft beneath is hard as black iron. How it looks, flushed red and swollen with lust, dripping pre-come, or how shiny the skin is when I've been sucking it and it's still wet from my mouth.
He smells so good – hot denim, leather-based cologne, the clean musk of a man's body in summer. He always smells ready for sex. It clings to him especially around the groin, so whenever I suck him I smell him, too, like being wrapped up in him completely.
Then there's his taste: smoky, musky, dark and low. He has a richer taste, smoother, than the other men I've been with. He tastes so strongly of raw "man" that it's impossible for me to resist him. I love the salt of his pre-come, the slick texture of it in the back of my mouth, the way it makes my mouth water to take more of him.
I love the sounds he makes as I worship his giant cock, that majestic tool, I love how he moans and sighs, or sometimes just grunts happily to himself, one hand thrust almost carelessly into my hair. His fingers always tighten just before he comes. He always arches forward just a little bit, swaying in place, trying to push his cock deeper.
And when he does come it feels as much like a reward to me as a gift to him; he explodes with sensation, but my senses are alive with him, too, suddenly and irrepressibly full of him, his flesh swelling and throbbing in my mouth, his taste flooding my mouth in sticky, salty, bitter bursts; his smell, heady now with the tang of semen; the way he moans and shudders, whispers my name. At that moment, there's nothing to my world but him. His, and that's all. Read More Hot Gay Sex Stories
He smells so good – hot denim, leather-based cologne, the clean musk of a man's body in summer. He always smells ready for sex. It clings to him especially around the groin, so whenever I suck him I smell him, too, like being wrapped up in him completely.
Then there's his taste: smoky, musky, dark and low. He has a richer taste, smoother, than the other men I've been with. He tastes so strongly of raw "man" that it's impossible for me to resist him. I love the salt of his pre-come, the slick texture of it in the back of my mouth, the way it makes my mouth water to take more of him.
I love the sounds he makes as I worship his giant cock, that majestic tool, I love how he moans and sighs, or sometimes just grunts happily to himself, one hand thrust almost carelessly into my hair. His fingers always tighten just before he comes. He always arches forward just a little bit, swaying in place, trying to push his cock deeper.
And when he does come it feels as much like a reward to me as a gift to him; he explodes with sensation, but my senses are alive with him, too, suddenly and irrepressibly full of him, his flesh swelling and throbbing in my mouth, his taste flooding my mouth in sticky, salty, bitter bursts; his smell, heady now with the tang of semen; the way he moans and shudders, whispers my name. At that moment, there's nothing to my world but him. His, and that's all. Read More Hot Gay Sex Stories
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