Bottoming out
Explore an electrifying journey of desire and connection in this captivating gay sex story. Follow the passionate encounters and emotional intimacy as characters navigate their deepest fantasies and vulnerabilities. Dive into a world of exploration, pleasure, and discovery!
I had been away on a beach and pool/poolside holiday so, having always been body conscious, determined that, having been recently body waxed, I would maintain and sustain the smoothness from my last waxing appointment for the duration of my holiday by shaving down regularly.
Ultimately, though, I had already booked another trip to the waxing salon, and a few weeks after returning from the holiday, the appointment had soon come around. I had already considered that there would perhaps be no need for it, given growth had only been allowed to resume recently, and very briefly contemplated cancelling it — but didn’t.
With another eagerly anticipated appointment having come around, I worked my way through the morning before making my way, again, early, for what was an afternoon slot.
When I made it into the treatment room, I stripped off, and stood waiting, the days of stretching out on the treatment table in a state ready for being waxed, having lost since passed, instead, submissively standing to attention in a readied state.
Outside in the other part of the salon, a customer was being seen out before I heard the sound of the keys for the premises, being used to lock the front door. The pretense for this appointment had long been set and that didn’t seem to prioritise waxing. I had already been informed that a third party had been unable to join us at short notice, much to our mutual disappointment.
After what seemed quite a long wait, but which probably wasn’t, he breezed into the room and, asked the question as to what waxing needed doing. At this point, I admitted that I had been shaving down to remain as body confident as possible whilst I was away and felt that little, if anything, needed doing.
He didn’t take long to reach the same conclusion but said we’d have to find something else to do instead. I reiterated disappointment that the third party had been unable to join us at short notice, to which, he agreed but, tongue-in-cheek, said that I would just have to make do with him before beginning to more attentively focus on my naked, submissive and available body.
It wasn’t long before he had reached for the trolley of lotions and potions, selecting some oil, with which he glazed my bum crack and hole. A submissive arguably waits for instruction and after he said that I should feel what was going on behind the zip of his jeans, my nearest hand immediately went to his crotch where his ever increasingly and therefore restricted hardness was very apparent. As he worked on my bum and hole, after a few minutes, he undid his jeans and dropped them down, followed by his dark coloured undies, his cock springing, once more, to my attention.
Within a short time, he had slowly moved in front of me, in response to me sticking my bum out, and having reached for some more oil, lubricated both his hard and my largely flaccid cock, before beginning a short period of frotting, drawing in close for a tight, nuzzling embrace. I lifted one foot up on to the treatment table, allowing him to not only play more attentively with me but to more easily insert oiled fingers into my oiled hole, and occasionally pump and play with my still fairly flaccid cock.
He knew what he wanted and was soon sat on the edge of the treatment table for me to assume a sub’s position, kneeling on the floor to begin sucking him, something I was more than ready for, so much so that my cock had started slowly and steadily leaking pre-cum. The drops that I was aware off, I was either collecting and bringing to mouth or, following his instruction, smearing it on his cock tip before sucking it off. This happened repeatedly for some minutes.
All of the time, he was leaning back, hands grabbing the other side of the treatment table, taking an occasional glance down to see his sub and project gazing lustfully back up at him, making hot eye contact, whilst plunging up and down his shaft, tonguing his frenulum, licking and sucking, one hand cupping and playing with his balls. His moans of pleasure were interspersed with an declaration that he had been looking forward to my visit that day. I was too busy gorging on and relishing his cock once more to be able to utter a response.
He instigated the next move, standing up for a brief moment alongside me. In that moment, he did what he is known for from time to time, expressing a wish for something he would like to see happen to me in his presence. (I remember, very clearly, a long time ago, when we were to be joined by two other cocks, that he wanted to see me double penetrated — although not explicitly by who, but this experience has yet to come to fruition.) This time around, his urge was for me to be spit roasted, one cock in my mouth, another fucking me from behind although, again, he was not explicit as to what part he would play in that scenario. Although nothing was said, the disappointment of not being joined by a third party that day, seemed to be evident in that very moment as if, somehow, it might have led to that. (He knows that previous encounters with other cocks he has arranged has seen me already spit-roasted by those cocks as he watched.)
Leaving me to dwell deeply on what he had said about me being spit-roasted, he stretched out on the treatment table, me assuming a familiar position, standing diagonally alongside him, bum close to his head so that he could reach and finger fuck his submissive, whilst my mouth went back down on him, one hand cupping and playing with his balls once more, the other reaching around to cup a bum cheek. As I assumed the position, I realised the extent that my largely flaccid and limp, frequently caged cock had been leaking. Although I thought I had caught and collected and swallowed every drop, either directly or from his cock, a quick glance confirmed that the floor was, in fact, littered with drops of my pre-cum semen. Briefly, I rued the wastage and the missed opportunity to have swallowed it all but reminded myself I had been in my place, servicing cock.
As I worked, the thought of what he had said and of being fucked again after such a long time was resonating with me. For a couple of minutes, I considered telling him how much I yearned to be fucked, holding off before lifting off his shaft for a second or so to say it out loud that I “really needed to be fucked”, but knowing that this was, usually a hard (no pun intended) limit for him, even though he had fucked me on the rare occasion before.
Suddenly, my mind almost exploded when, in his stretched out position, he surprised me by saying “You’d better get on then”. Historically, I had only ever been fucked from behind, bent over, like a readied bottom. I had never actually straddled a cock and plunged down on to it. My mind went into overdrive, and, having been assured that that the combined weight of our bodies would be supported by the treatment table, I climbed up and over him, his manly body dominating available space, my slender submissive body struggling to find knee space either side whilst my thoughts merely scattered, nothing particular other than experiencing, for the first time, actually riding a cock, and perhaps, even being bred for the first time, thinking that such a position was not conducive to any other outcome.