I woke up with the sun and a smile on my face. I'd been having a really good dream; I was with tasty little Matthew, and I had taken his virginity. It had been the best experience ever, and it was the kind of thing you regret solely for the purpose that it wasn't real.
I could feel the bright morning light that filtered into the room as it lingered on my skin, and I was beyond comfortable. I was covered up to my chest by the puffy silk bedding, the rest of my body bare. I was still groggy, and hadn't remembered the night's events yet. I moved, and felt something small and warm and still in my arms. Matthew.
The memories started flooding back, and I grinned like a kid at Christmas. It was real; finally, I had been allowed to love that perfect boy in the way we had been wanting, waiting for, after months of painful abstinence as we lived together in chastity. He'd wanted to wait, and so did I. That wonderful child was completely mine, at last, and I was flying.
Technically, he wasn't a child anymore; his eighteenth birthday last night proved that. I knew he would get mad if I still thought of him as a kid, though he was to me. I mean, I was six years his elder. (Admittedly, I did love to see that sweet, innocent face pout and look mad, but not when it was due to something I did.) I saw the little hemp bracelet I gave him at dinner still tied around his wrist, as he draped his arm over me. It had a little leather plate with his name stitched onto it. That had only been one of his gifts, however. The second, the real one, was mutually beneficial; I almost felt like I was the one receiving a present.
I laid there for a long time, just watching Matthew sleep. He was all wrapped up in me, his face snuggled against my chest. Neither of us had moved in the night, still lying in the position we passed out in, in the afterglow of our first experience together. His breath was soft and very slow as he rested, recovering from the loss of his virginity. I took in the way his smooth skin felt against my body, the way he smelled of dried sweat and sweet boy-musk, a scent I was thoroughly addicted to. I especially loved the way his buttery pale skin looked against the ivory sheets, his straw-blond hair spread wildly against the pillow.
I wanted so badly to touch him, to stroke that soft skin, but I was afraid that I might break the spell that made that moment so enthralling.
His breath was slow, soft as his chest moved against me, and his legs were tangled up with mine. He looked like the most gorgeous, delicate thing in the world. I wanted nothing more than to kiss his soft forehead, and keep him safe and sound from the big, bad world forever. I was finding it hard to believe that only hours before, that sweet face was drenched in sweat, contorted in pleasure and pain as he begged me to shove more of my dick up his tight little ass, or that his eyes were rolled back in his head, his mouth gaping, as he shot off the single longest, most overwhelming load I had ever seen.
The images flashing through my mind made my heart race and my cock stir. It poked him in the thigh, making him grumble something and nuzzle my pecs. I hushed him, stroking his hair gently and kissing the top of his head. Soon, he was back to normal, and with the kind of caution one would use when trying to escape a mine field, I detached myself from him, sneaking away without a sound.
I stretched in front of the closet mirror, my arms going up above my head and each of my muscles flexing and waking up. At 6'6, I could barely see my entire reflection, but the impression I gave off in public was well worth it. I looked at the swelling, semi-hardened cock between my legs, and smiled. Soon you'll get what you want, Old Friend, I thought. Just be patient.
My rod stuck out in front of me, swinging stiffly from side to side as I walked to the bathroom. I turned on the shower after relieving myself, waiting for the water to get to the absolute perfect temperature. Once it was steaming but not scalding, I went back into the bedroom and leaned over my pretty boytoy.
He looked lonely in that big bed, his arms stretching out in the space where I was, like he was searching for me. If it weren't so utterly adorable, it would've broken my heart. Slowly, tenderly, I pressed my lips to his, flicking my tongue in between them. I lifted his face into my hands, making sure he felt me, but that I woke him as gently as humanly possible.
He was so tired, it still took him a moment or two to realize what was happening. I felt him sigh happily. He returned my kiss with leisure, only half-awake. His arms wrapped around me affectionately, and I hauled him up into a sitting position. He tried to tell me something, but I couldn't understand it between our lips. I pulled back and laughed at him; I couldn't help it, he was so adorable. He looked asleep while sitting up, swaying back and forth, his head limp on his neck. He opened his beautiful blue eyes a crack and looked at me, a smile playing at the corners of his soft pink lips.
"Best wake-up call ever," he mumbled quietly, in a rough, drowsy voice, falling into me.
"There's a nice hot shower running in the bathroom, just for you and me. Why don't you let me take you and clean you up?"
He nodded and closed his eyes again. I picked my lover up, holding him close to me as I carried him into the bathroom. He had no clothes on, and I stared down at his delicious little body, still covered in red hickeys from last night. I still couldn't comprehend his insecurities. Matthew was nothing to poke fun at; he was small for a man (boy), yes, but he had cute, toned muscles on him, ones that he was still growing into, and was stronger than he looked. Plus, his cock, which was starting to grow a little from the closeness between us, made a big difference. It wasn't as big as mine, but he could go from six flaccid to eight hot, throbbing inches easily. All in all, he looked like the perfect twink, though he was strong and brave and intelligent on the inside.
Matthew's eyes were barely open, staring at me drowsily. I loved having his soft body against my own; holding him was like carrying an angel, something more precious than life itself.
I was afraid, in his current state, young Matthew wouldn't be able to hold himself up, especially standing on slippery wet tile. That being the case, I carried him into the monstrous shower, letting the warm water fall on us like a cleansing rain. He yelped at the sensation of the hot water pelting his body, writhing in my arms. I held him tight to keep him from falling, our now-slippery skin sliding against each other. Eventually, I was forced to put him on his feet, though I kept my arms around him to support him. He was fully awake now, and had his arms folded between us. He looked up into my face with shock and hurt, the water flattening his hair to his head.
"That was mean," he said. "I didn't know you were going to take me in here without letting me down. This water is hot."
"I'm sorry, Matthew," I said, kissing his forehead. "Is it too hot?" I reached for the handle of the faucet.
"No, it feels nice now. I just wasn't expecting it."
"Were you expecting this?" I murmured, leaning down and kissing his sugary, magnetic lips. I felt him gasp, before he went up on his tiptoes to meet me, his hands slithering up and around my neck to pull us closer. We stood there for several minutes as our tongues wrestled, just hanging onto each other. He nipped at my lower lip when I pulled away for air, trying to coax me back in.
We were both very wet when we finally parted. He was grinning and blushing furiously, his breath heavy. I looked down and realized I was poking him in the stomach, and he was poking me in between my legs. I smiled down at him, feeling more in love than I ever had before.
I took the bottle of Axe from the small shelf and squeezed a big dollop into my hand. I rubbed it between my palms, and gently, ever so gently, as if I would hurt him just by touching him, I ran my hands over him. He stayed still, staring up at me with wonder and admiration as I softly washed every inch of him. I scrubbed his scalp, rubbing any grease and dirt out of his perfect blond hair. He moaned quietly and pushed his head against my hands like a cat begging to have its ears scratched. He acted like my touch alone was an aphrodisiac, and I loved it. I moved down to his face, and neck, and shoulders. When I got to his chest and his back, he started to try and rub up against me, making small, lustful, needy sounds.
I turned him around and washed his beautiful little ass, still tender from last night. I really had stretched him open; probably more than what was healthy. He whimpered when I ran my fingers between his ass cheeks, flinching in pain, though his cock was hard as a rock. I spun him around, not wanting to cause him any pain, and worked on his throbbing dick. I rubbed his cock and his balls for a while, getting him hotter and hotter, but I didn't let him cum. He trembled, begging me to keep going, but I didn't.
"Naught naughty boy," I scolded playfully, tracing a finger up his smooth chest, grazing his lips.
He grinned, and his soft pink tongue reached out and ran up and down my finger like it was a tiny cock.
I moved down his legs, washing every inch, until I got to his beautiful little feet. I got down on my hands and knees and kissed his perfect toes, making him giggle. Even then, he looked so boyish and innocent, I couldn't help but smile. He was an angel, and he was mine. My personal little treasure, just for me, for me to touch and hold and love. I stood back up and kissed him as the shower rinsed the soap off of him, squeezing him to me. He rubbed up against me frantically, trying to reach that point.
I stopped him, picking him up into my arms. I sat down cross-legged with him like that, my own rod sticking into his lower back. I leaned over and gingerly ran my tongue up the length of his rod, lightly running circles around his piss-slit, so light he could barely feel it. He watched, entranced, as I kissed his cockhead, flicking my tongue against it rapidly. He started to writhe, panting with need. I sat back up, waiting for him to calm down. What he felt next, I wanted to stick in his mind for as long as he lived.
Once he had calmed down, and was staring at me hungrily, I dove down on his cock, deepthroating it with ease. It took him a second for reality to penetrate...then he started screaming. He bucked and screamed bloody murder at the brand new sensations. He had never had his cock sucked before, and apparently, he liked it. He grabbed a hold of my shoulder and squeezed, his nails digging into my flesh. If anything, the pain goaded me on, and I sucked even harder. I had to clap my hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out and making the neighbors think I was killing an animal.
It didn't take him long to cum. When he did, he let out a shuddering groan into my hand, his body going rigid, any movement stopping suddenly. Long pulses of thick, sweet boy-cum filled my mouth and throat, and I swallowed it down eagerly. I massaged and lightly squeezed his balls while he pumped his cream into my mouth, trying to milk every last drop from him. He stared at me the entire time, a stunned expression written on his face. I stared back, making sure he knew how much I loved this.
I sucked him long past the end of his orgasm, to the point where he couldn't handle the powerful sensations running through him. He hit me in the head with more force than I thought possible from someone so tiny, making me see double for a second. Once I forced my mouth away from the delicious cock, I held him in my arms, letting his dick soften and his breath catch up to him. The water was still steaming hot, surprisingly, and kept us both warm as he recovered. When he had the strength to open his eyes, he looked at me and smiled.
"I love you," he whispered, and I think I could have shot off right there. My cock was still painfully hard, and twitched against his back when he spoke.
There was a moment of silence, where realization dawned in his eyes. A mischievous, perverted look flashed across his face, before he moved. I don't know how he was so damned quick, especially post-orgasm, but before I knew it, he had me pinned on my back, planting sweet, sloppy kisses all over my face.
I sat there, shocked at what had just happened. How had that little man gotten me down so easily? He tried sucking my tongue out of my mouth, and realized that I didn't care.
He ran his tongue down my body, past my chest and navel, stopping at my throbbing cock. He looked reluctant, for a minute, staring at the huge piece of meat in front of him. I knew the cause of his hesitation; he wondered if he could do it, if he could please me like I pleased him. He had never done this before, didn't know if he would be any good.
"You don't have to do this," I told him. "I know it's a little scary, at first..."
A determined look came over the sweet little boy, and he made his face hard. Feigning confidence, he slowly lapped at the head of my cock, The tip of his tongue slid up and down the big vein on the underside of my dick, and I grunted a little.
He slid his tongue in circles on my sensitive head. Next, he moved down past the base and suckled one of my balls. He was a novice, but he had an amazing amount of natural talent. I tried not to let my back arch too much at the intense sensations, though it was impossible to hide a twitch or two. He spat it out and took in the other one, gently biting, but not enough to hurt. My responses gave him the courage to try taking my hot, throbbing rod in his mouth. He was slow, giving himself time to adjust to the feeling of having a big, fat dick sliding over his tongue. He took it a little at a time, and soon, he had his mouth completely stuffed with my cock. He was zapping my nerves with his warm, moist orifice, shooting me straight into an ecstasy-induced paradise.
I started gasping for air when his mouth sucked on me, staring at the roof of the shower with unfocused eyes. My cock was painfully hard, throbbing and leaking a river of precum. He acted like he was addicted to it, making hot, nasty slurping sounds whenever it started dripping out of his hot, wet lips, determined not to waste a single drop.
Gradually, he kept trying to deepthroat me, like I had done him. Every time my cockhead got near his throat, he gagged and had to push the rod away. He was working on the shaft with his hands, rubbing up and down, up and down.
"Oh, God, Kid. That's good...Yeah, there you go, just like that..." By that point, I couldn't care less if he managed to deepthroat me or not. I felt high on lust, wrapping my legs around him. I felt like I had to hold onto him, onto something, or else I would blow away or explode with that uncontrollable bliss.
I felt him speed up, and I my balls tightened up against my body. It was hard to speak through my gasps and grunts and panting, uncontrollable breath. "Matt-Matthew...You need to stop. I-I...I'm...Ahh! Oh, God Matthew, stoppleaseImeanitI'mgoingtocuminyourmouthrightnowifyoudon'tstop!!!" It was hard to believe that this child had me, with all my size and muscle and authority, begging like I was his toy. I could feel how much he enjoyed being in control of me, in the way his soft, talented tongue slid all around my dick.
Instead of taking his mouth away, he chuckled and sucked a little harder. I gripped his head, and though I don't like to admit it, what he did had me moaning like a bitch. With one hand, he tickled my balls, while his other creeped down and shoved two slippery fingers up my ass.
As I felt my orgasm approaching, I gazed down at my beautiful little boy. He looked back up at me, wiggled the long, slim fingers in my ass, and grinned around my fat cock. Despite giving me one of the most memorable, loving, luxurious blowjobs I'd ever received, he still looked childlike, like an angel or an adorable puppy. He was still so innocent, and he was mine. That sent me over the edge.
Fuck the neighbors; when I came in Matthew's sweet mouth, I howled like a man possessed. I felt like everything in my body was shooting out through my cock and down the boy's throat. I think I might have had a small seizure as it happened, from the way I was jerking on the floor, doing my best to ride out the wave of sheer euphoria flooding me.
It took forever for me to come down from that glorious, totally-and-utterly-fucking-mind-blowing orgasm. I lay still on my back, water pelting my chest, while Matthew gently cleaned up my cum-coated dick. That he did with his mouth, though he took the bottle of body wash from the floor and using soap on the rest of me. I was half-dead while he worked on me, trying not to pass out on the shower floor.
He rinsed me off with the detachable showerhead and sat cross-legged with my head in his lap, caressing my face and my scalp through my crew-cut, chocolate hair. I grumbled something like, "Thank you," though I don't think it came out as legitimate words.
Matthew smiled and kissed me gently. I could taste my own cum in his mouth, and we languorously shared the tastes mingling on our tongues. There was absolutely nothing more brilliant than the sheer beauty and satisfaction and love between us. I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes, and I knew this was true love. I knew I would never give up this gorgeous, sexy, addictive, loving, 1000-other-mushy-and-poetic-words-to-describe-him, boy. He was mine, this perfect little angel, and I was his, whether I liked it or not. I did like it, though; I liked it very, very much.