“Strip” a Sex Confession
Dive into “Strip,” a tantalizing gay sex story that explores desire, vulnerability, and the thrill of connection. Follow the journey of passion and liberation that unfolds in unexpected ways. Get ready for an unforgettable experience that will leave you longing for more!
I saw the box sitting wrapped up on the kitchen counter as soon as I walked in. A gift from my husband, obviously. We’ve been married a long time at this point and as most couples, there’s an ebb and flow in a relationship. Unfortunately for us, we were finding ourselves in the trough. Not connecting emotionally. Not connecting physically. We both desire each other deeply. The magic between us, that spark – you could always feel it, we have it, but, life happens. Work, responsibilities, exhaustion, family, stress… we were putting each other last and had been for some months. I had a feeling whatever was in the box was about to remedy all that.
I untied the black ribbon sliding the lid off. There was a card that said “Don’t look any further until you read this” I flipped it over to find a note. “I’m watching you on the security cameras right now. Strip for me. Slowly. Take everything off and leave it in a pile. Take the box and go upstairs. Shower and get yourself ready. When you’re done, go into the bedroom stand in front of the cameras where you know I can watch you. Put on what’s in the box. Kneel on the edge of the bed. Put your head between your elbows and spread your knees wide like I like. Make sure I can see you while I finish my day. I’ll be home soon.”
Chills shot up my spine. I looked at the camera in the top corner of the kitchen. Licking my lips slowly, my heart pounding at knowing he was watching me. He knew what we needed. He needed to take control, relight our spark.
I took my time just like he asked. Pulling the sweatshirt over my head as slow as I could. Running my fingertips over my hard nipples, squeezing gently. Hand snaking down my chest, down my happy trail, ghosting across the waist of my pants. Imagining his fingers replacing mine, his hands touching me… I needed to breath to calm myself, already dizzy in the fantasy.
I smiled while I slid my hand between my legs and squeezed for him. I took my time with the button and zipper never breaking my eye contact from that little lens in the corner, imagining what he was doing in his office chair while I put on my show. Was he touching himself? Was he hard for me? For us? I slid the pants down my hips, making sure my underwear didn’t slip along with it. Taking everything as slow as possible for him.
Bending over to slide the pants off my feet. I stayed bent, deciding to turn around to give him my best view. The one I know he loves. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and slowly started to ease the covering from my cheeks. Imagining him with his hand around his cock, desperate for me… needy. As needy as I felt for him. I slid them down further, making sure my hole was exposed. Dropping them to my ankles, I held both cheeks and spread myself wide. Toeing out of the undies, I turned around and stood up to face the camera. Looking like I could see him, I slipped my hand underneath my balls, cupping them, sliding them up and letting them drop heavily. Fisting my extremely hard cock, I stroked myself a few times. Staring at the camera, I blew a kiss to my voyeur.
Exiting the kitchen naked, the crisp air in the house made me feel tingly all over. Like it was dirty what I was doing. Naughty. It felt so right. I held the box carefully and did what he said. Putting it on the bed and showering myself as thoroughly as I could in the rush of adrenaline and want I felt.
Toweling off, I walked to the corner of our bed, staring up at the camera wondering was he still there? Was he on his way? The box held a black liquid latex type pair of briefs that said FUKR around the waist. There was a zipper from the top of the crack all the way down to the balls. Fingering the fabric, I had to wipe sweat from my brow at my desire to be clothed in them. He didn’t specify… should I leave them unzipped or should I let him do it? I opted to let him unveil my hole.
Sliding them on was its own erotic experience. I couldn’t shift fast enough to get them on. Realizing too late that I should’ve taken my time. Should’ve made a show of it, but I was desperate to get on my hands and knees. Desperate to spread my legs to bury my head in my hands to open myself for him. I shifted my hard on into the pouch that cupped my dick and made it look much bigger and more tempting.
I got into the position he requested, checking to make sure the camera saw me. My cock was throbbing. My balls throbbing. My heart throbbing. All of me dying with want. Just the thought of him, pulling that zipper open to see my hole. Imagining what he would do to me. Would he rim me? Fuck me with his tongue until I was a panting mess? Would he even let me come? Would he allow it or would he fill me with his seed over and over until I was so full it was leaking out of me desperate for my own release but denied over and over again..
I knelt and spread my legs wide, arched my back, buried my head… opened…. and I waited….
The two chimes were like a Sirens call. Letting me know someone opened the door. I knew it was him. My body shaking, twitching, anticipating. Knowing his hands were about to be on me. How much would he want me by now? What did he do in the car when he was driving home? Did he touch himself, did he think about me? Did he think about us about how he would turn me into a debauched filthy mess? Did he want me to cry for him, begging? Would he lick my tears for my face? Would he tell me he still loved me?
The bedroom door opened and closed near silently. I could feel his presence, but I didn’t open my eyes nor speak. I didn’t move my position. I ceded all control to him. I would let him take whatever he wanted from me. I would accept whatever he decided to give me. I needed him back in me.
His fingertips were the first touch I felt. Just a tickle to the nape of my neck. They were warm, inviting. An assurance that I was safe. They slid gently down my spine, soft kisses following in their wake. I could smell him, feel his suit brush against me. He was fully clothed, buttoned up, a perfect package of a man. A hand fell to each hip and squeezed just hard enough to let me know he knew what I needed. The good kind of pain, almost bruising but not quite. He always knew. Always.
A soft kiss to the dimples above each cheek and a kiss just above the waist band where the zipper was just at the tip of my crack. I heard a murmur. “I love you. I’ve missed you so much. Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you my good sweet boy.”
I nearly came. My cock so hard. It’s been so long since he called me his good sweet boy.. I’d forgotten how much I desired it. How much I desired to let him have control and here he was asking me, no, telling me he’d give me what I needed.. I whispered back. “Only you. You’re all I need.. I just need to feel you inside me. Use me. Fill me with your cock… Cum in me over and over.” I was whining for him, pleading. “Need you in charge so much.”