It had been patient enough. Now it wanted its turn.
Matt freed his mouth, smiled into Todd’s eyes, then rotated on the bench, one leg on each side. His own cock stood at attention, reporting for duty. Matt leaned back on his arms.
“Straddle me,” Matt said. “Facing me. Sit on my cock.”
“You’ll have to be gentle,” Todd whispered. “My hole can’t take much more.”
Matt watched as Todd eased himself onto his cock, slowly sinking until his ass pressed against Matt’s thighs. Matt held still, not bucking or thrusting.
Todd rocked his hips, rolling Matt’s cock back and forth inside him like the clapper on a bell. Todd moaned as he rocked.
“Stroke your cock,” Matt said. “I want to see you cum.”
Todd obeyed, hesitant at first, growing more urgent with time. Whereas Matt jacked with his whole hand, fingers curled around his shaft, Todd held the tip with only his thumb and forefinger, moving the foreskin up and down. It was a lovely sight.
As regarded the fucking itself, in terms of cock sensations, Matt preferred the earlier doggy-style and standing positions. This position did not maximize penetration. Nor did it provide the sucking friction from thrusting. Instead, Matt’s cock was cocooned, its head concussed as it banged from side to side.
Still, what the position lacked in cock sensations was compensated by the visual stimulation.
Matt felt the mercury rising, knew orgasm was close. He gritted his teeth, tried listing the prime numbers between one and fifty in his head. Anything to allow Todd to cross the finish line first.
Matt felt Todd’s orgasm before he had visual proof. Todd’s rocking grew frantic. His moans were almost pleas for relief. Then came the spooge, spilling out like lava.
Matt’s cock had its own eruption, muted in terms of output, this being its second of the evening.
Matt and Todd shared a smile. They were bonded now.