Sex free stories

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Your equipment is ridin' high in there, and as I press my palm and fingers against it, I feel it swell a little more and stir, starting to stretch. I tenderly press my fingers against the rounded bulge of your balls, not wanting to hurt, though we've played that game, but wanting to assure myself that, yes, you are really here, lying before me.

I walk to the foot of the bed, your eyes following me, and grab one of your heavy boots. "These have got to go first." I pull it down and after some struggle get it off. A smell of leather and dampness greets me, and as I throw the boot aside, I lean forward to kiss your instep, then drag my tongue across the hairs on the top of your foot. After I get the other boot off, I take your feet one at a time and massage them in my two warm hands. I watch as the tension starts to flow out of your body.

"Shirt next" I order, and help you to a sitting position as I unfasten the last buttons, pull the tails out of your waistband, and help you slip the damp cloth down your shoulders and off your arms. The heat from your shoulders is tremendous, and the scent of your body, a combination of warm flesh, sweat, and lust, is the scent of honey to my nose. A tangle of wet hairs sticks out of each of your armpits. I loosen and remove your holster and the top fastening of your trousers. "Roll over."

I always have loved this view of you. Wide, massive shoulders, not overly defined, but tight enough that as you turn over the play of the muscles beneath the skin is an erotic animation I could watch forever. I can trace the veins beneath your skin and the stories in each of the old scars and bruises you've collected, but instead I start at first gently, then more forcefully, to knead and rub, feeling your skin yield, your muscles give up their tension. This is when I always get my hardon, and there it is, right on schedule, full up and straining at the scratchy wool of my trousers. I press it against the side of your leg. Your wavy blond hair surrounds your profile against the pillow, and your eyes are only partly open. I climb up to straddle you, sitting on the firm round stool of your butt. I'd trade this for any hundred fine stallions. This one's enough for me! As I knead upward towards your shoulders, your back arches and your buttcheeks press upward against mine, making my cock rub against wool. I rise up and lower your waistband, and the tops of two white, warm mounds show, with a dribble of shining hair patched just above them and extending down into the cleft they make. I could stay here all night and be content, but....that's not what you or I need tonight. I rise off and return to the foot of the bed: "Roll over." Slowly you do....

Our eyes lock for just an instant, and there's pleasure written deeply in yours. I notice that your response to the backrub is the

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Comments are closed.