Late One Night on HotGuySecret
Lying in bed deep asleep I feel my boyfriend’s hand reach over and hold mine. At first, I think it is a sweet moment of affection but as he moves my hand to rest on the hard log in his designer briefs, I know he has other ideas in mind. The commanding look in his eyes reflecting in the moonlight tells me he has something more lascivious in mind.
Taking a step back, I am a thirty-five-year-old personal trainer, well technically I manage the trainers now but at six feet three and two hundred plus pounds of hard muscle I still have the body of a trainer. My boyfriend of five years is as opposite as you can get, a twenty-five-year-old artist he is just over six foot tall his lean twink frame weighs barely a hundred and twenty pounds.
We met in a coffee shop, and it was love, and lust, at first sight. The very first night he stayed in my apartment and within two weeks he moved in. Despite his small frame I fell in love with his confident domineering demeaner, a perfect match for my submissive nature.
The first couple of years were a steamy orgy or erotic experimentation and experiences. Being tied up in public, spending days in a cage, being made to wear a gimp outfit and host a sex party for his artist friends. Over that first year he clearly established himself as the master in the relationship and I became his slave. But like many couples we slowed down and moved to a house in the suburbs.
We still had awesome sex once a week on Saturdays and kept tie down straps on the bed, a bondage fuck bench in the closet. The trunk at the foot of the bed was filled with arm binders, handcuffs, whips, gags, blindfolds, and other toys for him to use on me. But the pacing had become predictable, weekdays were a dry zone, the sharp edge in the relationship was missing.
As my job requires me to get up before sunrise while my artist boyfriend sleeps to noon, I am in the habit of kissing him goodbye each morning. A few days ago, as I bent over to kiss him goodbye my elbow brushed something hard down below, thinking it was his hard cock I took a shot at breaking the predictable pattern we had fallen into and whispered, “I would love to suck on your morning wood.” The reason for the confused look on his face became apparent as I realized I only brushed the back of his hand in error.
So now back to the bedroom at three am on a Thursday and I am holding his fat twink cock and seeing his commanding gaze. Eagerly I move to kneel between his legs and take the pulsing meat in my mouth. At first, he reaches past me as I suck down his fat cock and he is tweaking my nipples, a personal favorite of mine. But soon he has both hands on my head grabbing my short hair roughly as he is pumping his cock aggressively down my throat.
Despite the late hour and the pain, I was in heaven. My own cock was leaking precum in my briefs as I chocked down his cock. He growled at me warning me he was going to dump his load into my mouth. I held the base of his cock and massaged his balls as he forced my head to move faster. He started to thrust his hips, my nose was running with snot, my throat was raw from his pierced cock sliding in. I heard him growl as he arched his back and unloaded a thick wave of twink cum into my mouth. I slurped and sucked as much as I could before swallowing it all in a big gulp.
As he lay there panting, I got a washcloth and cleaned him up, enjoying the feel of his tight body, as a good submissive should. When I was done, he pulled back up his briefs and rolled over going back to sleep leaving me and my hard cock abandoned. His last words before falling asleep were “Don’t you dare masturbate!”
The rest of that night as he lay sleeping peacefully next to me, I lay awake thinking of my hard untouched cock and reflecting how lucky I am to have him as my boyfriend and my master. The first crack in the dam of monotony had burst and I knew we were on the path back to the wild times.