A Lesson in Humility

This was his punishment. He was to be waiting for me, on his stomach, ass up, wearing nothing but fishnet stockings on those tan muscular legs of his, and a garter belt.

He was humiliated, degraded, emasculated, and that's what I wanted him to feel because he broke my number one rule. He was to stop fucking girls. But being the cocky, arrogant, ridiculously good-looking, hard bodied jock that he was, he couldn't help but go back to his old ways. Girls threw themselves at the college athlete. He could have anyone he wanted and he knew it.  He was a well of toxic masculinity.

He was the one who came on to me that first night. I wasn't even supposed to be at that party. I felt out of place with all the college aged kids there. But I'm glad I decided to go. Who wouldn't want a drunk, 200-pound muscle boy hit on them. The one everyone was watching, the one every girl and gay dude were slobbering over. The one who was living a lie but knew how to get laid.

He was hammered, probably high too. He kept staring at me from across the room, even though he had some drunk bitch hanging on him. I knew a closet case when I saw one. But I don't pursue, I am pursued. When a guy as hot as he is cruises another guy in clear view of his girlfriend, there is only one thing he wants, to get fucked. He was my type too, ten years younger, hot as fuck with a hard, smooth body, dark and handsome, totally masculine acting and looking. His jeans too tight, his shirt way too tight. His clothing could barely contain his jacked body.  His backward ball cap had a shock of dark hair poking out above the strap on his forehead.  I could tell from his demeanor he was cocky and was good at hiding his true nature, except to me. This cocky alpha frat boy was really a submissive muscle bottom.

He finally ditched the bitch and made his way to me. It was a crowded party; someone's birthday party. I was standing alone, nursing a beer, my friends outside sharing a joint.

"Hey," he said with a nod, his voice sounded nervous. He had a nice deep voice. He took a drink of his beer, never dropping eye contact.

"Hey," I said back, matching his demeanor.

He looked around nervously but trying to look collected. I just stared at him with a confident smile. He knew that I was aware of what he was doing. It was so hot to watch this stud squirm. I said nothing, just stared. If he wanted me, he was going to have to put in the work.

"Whatchur name?" he slurred slightly with a southern drawl. He was beyond buzzed but not quite trashed.

"Turner," I replied.

He nodded again. "Beau," he said tapping the lip of his bottle against his chest.

I raised an eyebrow. Beau? He looked like a Beau. Nice straight boy name, very southern, very masculine.

"How old are you?" he asked bluntly, randomly.

I guffawed and asked, "What kind of question is that?"

He shrugged his muscular shoulders and said, “Just askin."

I shook my head amused. "Thirty," I replied.

He smiled and nodded again. He nods a lot. A man of few words. I like that. It adds mystery.

"Nice," he said and then just stared at me. I cocked my head trying to figure out if there was something mental about him but then decided the kid really was just hammered. And he probably had no social skills. Just a big, dumb, beautiful jock.

“Is it?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“What’s so nice about it?” I asked calling him out. I wanted to see him freeze up.

“Uh... no reason.”

“Uh huh,” I say with a raised eyebrow before taking a drink.

He pointed his bottle at me and asked, "Don’t you wanna know how old I am?"

I shook my head. "No. Not really,” I said condescendingly, exerting my inner alpha.

He flinched at my audacity to be rude to him. I needed to show this kid how I operated. He needed to know he was not in charge. That’s all I needed was an arrogant, bossy bottom.

"Dude?" he questioned that I would be so blunt.

I shrugged by big shoulders. "I don't need to know how old you are. You're a drunk frat boy so that means you legal. Legal is all I need to know," I said with a stern serious face, staring him down.

He stood quietly, trying to comprehend what I just said. He looked around again and drew closer. "You're stacked, bro."

I smirked at the comment. Why was he trying to be so coy. "I know." I said like a conceited asshole but I wanted to show him flattering me would not get him anywhere. I could tell he was waiting for me to compliment him on his body, but I wanted him to know I wasn't going to feed his ego... too much.

"You and I are probably the hottest dudes here,” he said trying to get my validation by fishing for a compliment. It was fun to watch him react this way. He'd never had anyone not notice his body and make a comment about it.

I looked him over and shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah," was all I said. I think it pissed him off but it also turned him on.

"Ok," he said looking embarrassed, or intimidated, or both. He met his match.

I saw him take in a deep breath. Then he got brave. He was a horny little bastard. I could have been dick deep in him 5 minutes ago if I did all the talking but I loved watching him squirm. I'd let him grovel. He leaned in again and quietly asked, "Wanna fuck me?"

"Yes," I replied but that's all I said. A grin came over his face.

"Now?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes," I replied bluntly again.

He was getting frustrated and irritated with me. He didn't usually have to work this hard. "Dude, what's up with you? You're being so weird about this."

I laughed. "Just love seeing little bitches like you act cocky while you're trying to get fucked."

He flinched and looked at me with surprise. He thought he was controlling the situation. He was not.

I leaned in and clamped my hand on the back of his neck and squeezed. "So, let ME tell YOU how this is going to work," I said standing close, almost nose to nose, my voice down to a low growly whisper. "We're leaving, right now. You're getting in my truck. You're going to suck my dick all the way to my place. Then I'm going to fuck you multiple times before morning and implant you with enough sperm to get even a man pregnant."

I swear he was going to faint. His mouth hung open; his eyes were wide. He swallowed then he whispered back, "Fuck yeah. Let’s go.”

We got in my truck, strapped in, and pulled onto the street. I reached over and clamped down on his neck again. He looked at me a little clueless, his eyes staying on my face even as I pulled his head down toward my lap. His eyes fell down to my lap.

“You got two seconds to pull my dick out and start sucking or I’m pulling over and kicking you out,” I growled. I was totally bluffing, no way I was letting this piece of ass get away. But I like being a dominant asshole and he liked it too. Like a flash, he had my jeans open, my dick out and his mouth down on my dick.

He sucked dick like a pro the whole twenty-minute drive to my place. As I pulled into my garage and put it in park, I clamped both hands down on his head and pushed it down hard as my ass came up off the seat and I exploded a load down this throat. Like a good boy, he swallowed every drop.

He sat up in his seat. Cum dripping from the corner of his lips. He cleared his throat, no doubt hurting from being throat raped on the ride home. His eyes were watery, his face flushed red. He wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm.

“Shit, dude,” he said wiping the tears out of the inside corners of his eyes. “You got another load for me, bro? I hope that one wasn’t wasted on my throat.”

I sneered at him. “I’m no where near done, fuck face,” I said giving him a smack on his face. “Get inside.”

He followed me in the house. I again held him by the back of the neck and led him to the bedroom. I grabbed his bicep and whipped him around violently against my chest. “Fuck yeah,” he said under his breath. I grabbed a fistful of hair, held his head still and I attacked his lips with my mouth. I heard him grunt into my mouth from the sudden aggression. We made out like animals while we undressed. He stood before me in all his glory naked and beautiful. He had a nice dick but I wouldn’t be using it. It’s that fat, bowling ball ass that I wanted.

I wasn’t surprised when he fell back on the bed and his legs immediately flew up in the air. He was well versed in down and dirty hook ups. He went out tonight ready to get fucked. The kid was a fucking slut and I love slutty muscle boys.

I ate that ass out, listening to his gruff moans, his dirty mouth begging me to eat his pussy. This kid was saying all the right things, hell, he was doing all the right things.

“Fuck yeah, bro. Eat that hole,” he said in his gruff frat boy voice. I continued to feed on his ass. “Feels so good, bro. Fuck, dude!”

I listened to him beg as I slurped that delicious hole.

“FUCK, BRO! Need you to fuck me, bro! Come on, stick it in me and plow!”

It’s when he started begging me to fuck him that got me revved up. There’s something about a stacked, masculine, muscle slut begging to be fucked. I didn’t even make him wait for an answer. I jumped up on my knees, threw his legs back further and rammed inside. He screamed. I loved it. Just like I thought, he was a fucking power bottom.

“Destroy my hole, dude! Destroy my fucking hole!” was one of the things he yelled out.

“Want me to destroy that fucking slutty muscle hole, boy?” I growled as I rammed away.

“Yeah bro! I’m a fucking slut, man. Want your cum, bro. Make my hole fucking sloppy!”

Hearing him say that that’s exactly what I did. I unleashed inside him. His head was flopping around like he was possessed. “I FUCKING LOVE CUM!” he screamed out. “LOVE CUM IN MY FUCKING HOLE!”

That took my surprise, my eyebrows raised. I was not expecting that from a guy like him. He really was a fucking slutty sloppy cock whore. So hot.

Even after hours of fucking, he woke up twice in the early morning hours and rode me. Then after he slept a couple more hours, I mounted him in his sleep and fucked him again.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he screamed when I pushed my cock inside.

I clamped down on him harder. I covered his mouth with my hand and growled into his ear, “Shut up, whore and open that slut hole.”

God, I love it when they wake up from a deep sleep screaming when I plunge my dick inside them.

The next day I couldn’t kick him out like I normally would with a hook up. He was too fucking hot, my perfect type. We spent most of the day together. We had breakfast, then went for a walk, watched some football, fucked some more. He turned out to be a pretty cool guy probably because he dropped that macho bullshit he was fronting. I took him back to his car that he left at the party the night before. Before he got out of my truck, I decided to tell him we’d be seeing each other again, but I had rules.

"I like you, Beau," I said.

He grinned. "I like you too, Turner. You're hot as fuck."

"I’ve decided to continue fucking you,” I said as a matter of fact.

He perked up. "Sweet, dude. I want that too."

"But I have rules."

"What?" he asked suddenly hesitant.

"I have rules. If you want to be my fuck boy, you follow the rules. You don’t follow my rules, you’re gone. Understand?”

He slowly nodded. "Ok."

I firmly pointed my finger into his chest. “First, you do as I say. No questioning me. Ever. Got it?”

His eyes were big. “Yes, Sir,” he said meekly.  He licked his bottom lip, his mouth was suddenly dry, showing me he was loving being told what to do.

"Next, this is all about me getting off on you. I EXPECT you to put out whenever you’re here," I said sternly.

He nodded and replied, "Of course, Turner."

"Next, I know you won't have a problem with this rule. You don't get fat. You keep your body in this condition at all times."

"Dude, that's easy. I’m gonna be this hot forever,” he said very cocky.

"Next, and I know you’re gonna whine like a little bitch with this one, but you no longer fuck girls.”

"What?” he said loudly. “But that’s not fair!” he exclaimed.

I gave him a mean look. “Did I not just say you will never question me?”

He stood down. His eyes were like puppy dog eyes. He didn’t answer.

“DO YOU WANT TO BE MY FUCKBOY?” I asked emphasizing each word. “OR NOT?”

He sat up straight. “Yes! Yes, I do.”

“Then no pussy!”

“Ok. Ok, Turner,” he said relenting.

"Last Rule. I own you."

He swallowed hard. "You... OWN me?"

"I own you. You're MY fuck boy. As long as I'm fucking you, I expect loyalty and respect. Trust me, you won't find anyone like me again. Just know right now, I think you're the most attractive man I've been with. You're jacked, handsome, and you're athletic, three things that are required in my fuck boys."

“Fuck BOYS? Plural?” he asked sounding a little hurt.

I smirked. “Don’t think you’re the only closeted, slut muscle boy out there. Anyway, it’s none of your concern.” Currently, I only had one other fuck boy, a hot little army boy but he was shipping out soon. I was in the market for another. I’ve had more than one boy at a time before but juggling more than two at a time can be tiresome.

“Ok,’ he replied nodding slowly. I could tell he hated not being the only one I was interested in. That’s the egotistical, hot jock, frat boy in him. I can also tell he’s never been told ‘no.’ He’s always got what he wanted because of his looks. Beautiful people usually do. I can attest to that.

His dick was hard as a rock. I looked down at it and reached over and massaged it. "I think we have a deal," I told him as I massaged and he gasped.

"Yes, Sir," he replied. “We do.”

A few months later...

He spends most of his extra time at my house. And almost all of that time he was getting fucked. I thought things were going pretty well. We got along great.  We had a nice understanding. We also had a lot in common. I was getting used to him being around. I started to look forward to our time together and so did he, I could tell...

UNTILL that fucker fucked up. He broke a rule. He fucked some pussy.

I have my ways of finding these things out. He didn’t know I tracked his phone. I like to know where my fuck boys are at all times. One night he lied to me. He told me he was going to a movie with some of his buddies. But he was no where near a movie theater when I checked up on him. He was at a strip club. I drove to his location. I went in and discreetly looked for him.

Call me jealous but I don’t stand for lying and disobedience. I knew he wasn’t completely comfortable with being gay. He was still holding on to his straight persona. He didn’t want to cross over and be who he really was. This was him exerting his masculinity. He was beginning to feel too emasculated with me. A guy as cocky and self-confident as him was bound to act out. He was fucking pussy to prove something to himself, that he was still in charge, in control, still a real man. I never made him feel anything other than a real man. I always fucked him rough and told him I could because he was built to handle it. I never called him demeaning femininizing names during sex. Sure, I called him a little bitch but that wasn’t crossing a line. He liked it.

But now, I was pissed. He needed to be taught a lesson. He needed to learn what it meant to be with a man like me. He needed a reminder that he was a submissive little cunt.  I needed to demean and humiliate him. That would show him I wasn’t fucking around. It would scare him into submission and he would never disobey me again.  This wasn’t my first rodeo with defiant boys like him. My tactics always worked.

At the strip club, I caught a glimpse of him leaving out the side door with a stripper. I left and walked around the back. I watched from around the corner as he hefted the girl up against the brick wall and fucked her. Man, he was good at it too. The muscles in his arms bulged as he held her up. That spectacular ass, the one I had loaded up the night before, flexed as he pumped. The boy was hot and he knew it. I snapped a pic with my phone. I watched them fuck until he came. He set her down, they kissed and then she went back into the club. He pulled up his jeans, turned and went back inside. He never saw me.

I blew him off the next day. Besides, I had some planning to do, and some shopping. Two days after he fucked her, I called him over to the house.

"I thought we had an agreement, fuck boy," I said scolding the cocky athlete.

He looked at me dumbfounded. “What?”

“You lied to me,” I growled.

“Tuner, dude, I would never,” he pleaded.

I pulled out my phone. I held the picture up in his face. His face went white. His eyes were big wide. “Oh, shit,” he murmured.

“Yeah. Oh shit,” I repeated.

“You followed me? How?” he asked surprised and a little irritated.

“You don’t think I wouldn’t keep tabs on you? This proves why I do.”

“Turner, I’m so sorry. I swear it will never happen again,” he pleaded with me. He stepped closer to me, looking to kiss me or hug me, but I wasn’t having it. I stepped back.

"I thought things were going so well, Beau. What the fuck did you think you were doing?"

He raised his head and shrugged. "I'm sorry, Turner. My buddies wanted me to go to the club. I knew you wouldn’t like that so I lied. That girl hit on me. I was so hammered and I was so horny."

“So, you fucked the first whore who hit on you,” I said like I just read his mind.

His eyes were watery. “I’m so sorry, Turner. Please, don't break up with me."

I recoiled with a confused look. "Break up with you?"

He realized what he said. And I realized then he saw this whole thing as more than just a fuck buddy arrangement.  

"Uh.... yeah?" he said as a question.

"Break up with you? Do you think we're dating?" I asked him with a confused yet condescending look and tone.

Beau was suddenly scared to say anything. I looked at him waiting for him to answer me. He knew I would wait.

"I guess... it feels like we are. I thought...” then he stopped.

I listened and stood stone faced. Shit, this kid was in love with me. Not gonna lie, I’d often thought about how great it would be to have a gorgeous boy like him around all the time. I stepped closer and got in his face.

"If you thought we were together then why did you fucking cheat on me?" I asked while I slapped my palms against his built chest and shoved him back a few feet.

He suddenly looked angry and I could tell he wanted to push me back. He clenched his fist and took a half step forward. I hadn’t ever seen him mad. I liked it. And he'd never seen me this mad.  I just stood there, arms crossed over my chest, stared him down, and I slowly shook my head. He stepped back, looking regretful.

He looked like he was clamoring for an explanation. Then he came up with the oldest line in the cheater’s handbook. "I... I thought it wasn't cheating if I had sex with a girl."

I stepped closer backing him against the wall. "What was my rule Beau? Huh?"

His back was to the wall, literally. His palms at his sides, pressed against the wall. He blew out a breath of air. "No more sex with girls."

I got in his face. I extended my arms and put my palms flat against the wall on either side of his head. "I know what you were doing, Beau. You'd been getting fucked so much that you think you needed to feel like a real man and dip your dick in some pussy.”

He was silent.

"I know I'm right," I added.

He searched my eyes. “I don’t know...”

I cut him off. “I’m right,” I said forcefully.

He was silent again before he mumbled, "I guess you're right."

"Not feeling enough like a man?” I asked. “Is putting out for another man got you messed up? You bit off more than you can chew. You’ve never been used as much before you met me.”

"I guess,” he said, slightly nodding his head.

"Too fucking bad, you cunt.” He flinched when I called him a cunt. “You're my pussy. You agreed to it."

He looked down. "I know, Turner. I'm sorry."

I was quiet, studying him. He was uncomfortable with me looking him over but not saying anything. Finally, I spoke. "So, you want to be with me? You want to by my boyfriend?"

He nodded. "Yes, Sir. I do."

“Before all this shit went down, I thought about it too.” He smiled. But I continued, “But you've pissed me off, Beau.” His smile disappeared. “You need to prove to me I can trust you again. You need to be punished."

"Punished?" he asked with fear.

"Nothing like you're thinking," I assured him. "You just need a reminder of your loyalty to me. The promises you made. You're so afraid of being emasculated then that's your punishment."

"I don't get it," he said confused.

"I did a little shopping for you today. Tomorrow, you will come here after your last class and wait further instructions."

“Ok.”

“Now, get the fuck out of my sight,” I ordered pointing to the door.

He looked destroyed. “But Turner...”

“Get the fuck out.”

 

The next day, Beau showed up. He went into my bedroom where a box sat on the bed with a note. It instructed him to strip down and wear what was in the box and wait for me to come home, and he should be face down, ass up. Being the sadistic fuck I can be, I had a hidden cam in the bedroom. To see his face turn white when he read the note was so awesome. When he opened the box, his expression was priceless. His square jaw just hung open. He slowly picked up a pair of fishnet thigh-high stockings and a garter belt. He held them out and shook his head. He looked around the room looking so utterly frantic. He even paced. He sat down and put his face in his hands. Finally, after a few minutes, he sat up, took a deep breath, blew out the air and stood up.

Then I got to watch him strip down, his gorgeous fucking body was tan and smooth. He always kept his body shaved down because he knew I like it. Another thing that probably made him feel emasculated. I watched him slide on the stockings and was amused to watch him figure out how to attach the garters to the stockings. Then I was surprised to see him walk over to the full-length mirror and start to ogle himself in the mirror, checking out the stockings and feeling them smooth against his muscle. He ran his hands over the material that clung to his muscular quads. I think he liked it. Then he checked the time on his phone. He knew I would be home any minute. He didn’t know I was around the corner in my car watching him on my phone. He lay down on the bed and waited.

I came home and went into the bedroom. What a fucking site. My big, cocky muscle boy in stockings and a garter belt waiting for his man.

I growled under my breath. His ass flexed because he was humping the mattress. “Look at that pussy, “I said in a husky voice.

He turned his head to look at me. “Is this how you wanted me?” he asked hoping for my approval.

“You did good, baby,” I said sweetly. He smiled when I called him baby. I hadn’t ever done that before, it was either Beau, or Dude, or Bitch.

I took off my clothes. I stood next to the bed and firmly grabbed his ass. It flexed as I did. “Do you like your new clothes Sir bought for you?”

“As long as you like them, Sir,” he said.

I smirked. “I asked do YOU like the new clothes I bought you?”

He quickly corrected himself. “Yes, Sir. I love them.”

“Spread those legs a little more, baby,” I instructed. He did.

I ran a finger over his tight little hole. “Such a sweet pussy, baby.”

“Thank you, Sir.” His voice was shaky.

“I love seeing you like this, baby. All pretty for me. Beautiful legs splayed out for me. They look so hot in your stockings.” I crawled up on the bed between his legs.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said quietly.

“You wanted to be a big, tough man. But look at you now, dressed up pretty for your man. Wearing the sexy lingerie I bought for you. Showing me that smooth cunt,” I said. I pushed a finger inside his hole. “Want me to finger your cunt, baby?” I asked sweetly.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Yes, I knew you would. You always like it when I finger you. Finger that warm, wet cunt. Get you ready for your man’s cock.”

“Uh huh,” he whimpered as I fingered him, he was grinding into the bed. He did love it whenever I fingered him. Sometimes we’d be watching a game on tv and if he was wearing shorts I would slide my hand between his legs, travel up his inner thigh and find his hole. I loved seeing him close his eyes, lay his head back and moan quietly as I fingered him. His muscular chest heaving.

I leaned in close and said quietly, “Did you finger that whore?”

I saw his head nod. He was looking up at me from the corner of his eye. “Inside the club.”

“I bet you fingered her like this. I bet you like being fingered like a girl. My big fingers fucking your cunt like you did to that whore. You like this, baby? This is how she felt when you fingered her cunt.”

He was whimpering.

“Answer me. You like being fingered like a girl?”

He nodded again. “Yes, Sir.”

“Do you like feeling the way she did with a man’s fingers in her whore pussy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re feeling like a girl right now, aren’t you? Feeling like your manhood is being taken away from you.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you my girl, baby?” I asked sweetly.

He was quiet. He stopped humping the bed. He wasn’t sure if he heard what he heard me say.

“I asked you a question, baby. I have my fingers in your pussy. That makes you a slutty girl. If you’re not my girl, I may have to cut you off. So, are you my girl?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes,” he barely whispered.

“Louder, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I’m your... girl.”

Oh, god this was killing him. It made me so hard.

“Good girl,” I said.

“Sir?” he asked.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

I chuckled. “Because, sweetheart, this is your punishment. You’re humiliated, embarrassed, emasculated. You’re going to know what your role is. You’re going to realize what you really are, who you really are. You’re going to never even think about pussy again. Because if you do, this is going to happen again, that is if I don’t decide to get rid of you. And I know you’re addicted to me, you’re in love with me and you’re not going to ever leave me because you crave this.” I pulled my fingers out of him. I sat back, aimed my cock at his hole and slid in. He raised his head and gasped.

“Oh my fucking god, yes,” he said moaning.

The sensation of his warm hole was even more amazing than normal because of the extra adrenaline coursing through me. This situation, this scene put my ego into overdrive. Seeing this stud of a man, utterly submitting to me, showing me how much he wanted to please me to the point of emasculation was a natural high for an alpha like me.

I sank down until my chest was on his back, my head resting on his shoulder. I whispered, “Such a sweet pussy, baby girl.”

“Fuck me, Turner,” he whimpered.

“Are you wet, baby? Do I make your pussy so wet?” I asked as I began to pump away at his muscle ass.

He was moaning, groaning, and breathing hard as he replied, “My pussy’s so wet, Sir.”

“Good girl,” I cooed. “My big muscle girl,” I added before I kissed his neck.

I fucked him for a long time in this position mainly because I liked how he arched his back and thrust his ass up to meet my cock. I also liked the feeling of his knotted back on my chest.

I finally pulled out. “On your back, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face while I’m inside my girl.”

He flipped over and spread his legs. He placed his hands on his calves and pulled those big legs back. I watched him, the hunger in his eyes. He straightened his legs and he began to run his hands up and down his hamstrings. He liked the feeling of how the material clung to his muscles. It felt smooth and slick.

“Like this, Sir?” he asked me with a sweet innocent tone.

“Yes, I love seeing my girl open her pussy for me.” I slid my cock back inside him. His handsome face looked like it was in ecstasy. His ripped muscles were so defined, and smooth, and tan. His abs looked amazing even crunched up with his legs hovering in the air.

I fucked him long and slow. I liked watching him feel good. His toes pointed; his stockinged feet looked so sexy. His legs looked streamlined. The garter straps were stretched to their limits. I thought this was just a power trip for me. I thought this was just a lesson I was teaching him. But seeing this strong, powerful boy dressed in feminine lingerie, showing his loyalty to me. I started to find him incredible sexy. I liked seeing how I took this masculine, athletic, lady’s man and turned into a whimpering muscle sissy. I liked seeing him like this. I actually liked emasculating him. I think he was going to like it too. I started to realize our situation was about to change.

“How’s my pussy, Sir?” he asked, waiting in anticipation of my approval.

I leaned down and kissed him. “So wet and warm. So tight. So smooth.”

I continued to long-fuck him. We stared into each other’s eyes. A connection that we hadn’t had before clicked. “I’m making love to my girl.”

He took in a small gasp. It was a sexy feeling knowing he liked it.

“Do you want me to make love to you all the time, baby?” I asked.

“I do, Tuner. I love feeling you inside me.”

“I think I like seeing you dressed like this. In fact, I think I prefer it.”

He swallowed hard. Like he was scared to admit it he said, “Me too.”

“Yeah, baby?” I said gently moving a lock of sweaty hair off his forehead.

“I like how it makes you feel. I like how much you like it.”

“That’s so hot, baby.”

He reached up and pulled my head down for a kiss. “I... I feel like what a girl feels like when she’s with a man. I feel like you’re my man and I’m your girl. Is... is that ok?”

I smiled. “I’m going to cum in you so hard, baby,” was my answer.

“Yeah?” he smiled.

“My big, powerful, muscle girl. Your deep voice begging me to make love to you. Fuck,” I said as I could feel the cum churning. “I’m gonna cum!”

“YES! CUM INSIDE ME, BABY!” he yelled out.

I howled as I unleashed a torrent of semen inside. When it splashed on his face, he came too. It was the most powerful orgasm of my life, and his too. I fell down onto him and we made out as I swiveled my hips, swirling my cock inside his soaked hole.

Eventually, I pulled out, rolled off and lay beside him. We both stared up at the ceiling, catching our breaths.

“Did that just happen?” he asked monotone in disbelief.

“It did,” I confirmed.

“That was... so...”

“Amazing? Fucking amazing?” I said finishing his thought.

“As shocked as I am about this, and I know I should be mortified, but I’m into this,” he said with a smile.

“Honestly, this was just supposed to be a lesson in humility for you but I think this should be a regular thing.”

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “I look fucking hot in this, don’t I?”

“Unbelievably,” I said quickly.

“I mean, look at my fucking legs. Sexy.”

“So fucking sexy.”

“Can I have more?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Now, I need to get back inside you, big boy.”

He automatically crawled on top of me, raised my hard cock up tall, and sank down on it. He grinned. “No, I’m your big girl.”