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after a few life-changing hours, he says, right in my ear, "ready..1..2..3" and i wonder if this is what it feels like to .. i don't know what. it's amazing how much a part of you it feels when the right cock is inside you. he wipes sweat off his forehead and my back, smiles, catches his breath, gently pulls nine inches of rubber off himself, and says, damn, do you do that to all the guys you're with.
talking about that thing we perfected: he's on top, we're both facedown to the bed, and once he's all the way in me, whispers squeeze. i push back, he slowly withdraws, saying si? or te gustas, mijo?
our soundtrack started with d’angelo, then badu, then pharcyde, mos def, common, and finally the handsome boy modeling school. all this booty music, hip-hop, r&b, this is what it's for sometimes.
at some point i got told that i looked like a prince when i was on my back, struggling to give it up in that position. so does that make you king, i asked. the backs of my thighs were pressed right against his chest when he leaned in like that, his eyes getting soft but not easing up (and i didn't want him to) when i bit my lower lip (his cock gets thicker as you go down, until the base is such a trunk that when he gets in deep your head spins, except i'm pushing it down into the pillow to give myself another millimeter to escape) in semi-, no, it really was pain, but i didn't give a fuck. you want it to hurt a little bit.