“What do you mean?” I wondered.
He paused.
“C’mon. Let’s go to my place. It’s not far. I’ll tell you all about it there.”
For a second I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I paid the tab and we walked out into the sun, crossing the street to a series of brownstone flats. We walked up the steps where he pulled his keys to the outer door out, letting us both in, then we walked up another short flight to the first level where two units facing each other sat. We went to the one on the left. He opened the door.
Oliver’s one-bedroom was pleasant. It was clearly an older unit, probably over 50 years since its original construction. The hardwood floors showed signs of age, but were in good repair. A large throw rug was centered on the living room floor, on top of which a sectional couch from the 1970s sat, facing the window to the street. I figured it was probably acquired from a thrift shop from its visible wear. An entertainment center, also aged, sat in front of one wall. Numerous house plants sat around the room.
I took a seat on the couch. Oliver leaned against the window facing the street, indirect light from the sun coming in. His navel was at eye level to me. I gazed at it lustfully.
“Now that we’re in a private place, I can say it aloud…I love your bellybutton,” I said.
“I do, too,” Oliver answered. “But I didn’t always.”
His face became more thoughtful as he began to tell a story.
“I mean, you know how cruel kids can be. I’ve always had an outie. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then some of the other guys used to pick on me and even point, laugh, tease, one even tried to beat me up once.”
“Well, kids can be assholes,” I quietly assured him.
“Yeah…they can. Something happened after I started college, though. As I left the challenges of high school, I began to have … some kind of awakening. It was partly sexual, as it sounds like you’ve had…”
I nodded.
“I started noticing that when I felt my bellybutton, or anything brushed up against it, or I felt a breeze blow on it or something, I’d get really horny. Like, really horny. Like, I’d want to jack off right then and there. I knew I was gay already, that wasn’t a surprise. But this other thing really was.”
“Sure,” I said.
“And it was like, I felt this want…this need…to show it off. I mean, half-shirts are pretty popular right now, you know?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I replied. “That’s how you got my attention.”
Oliver smiled again. “Yeah.” He paused briefly then went on. “I want to show this off, I want to put this in the world’s face. Maybe that’s part of why I do modeling on the side — I can show it off.”
“Very cool.”
“And,” Oliver said, gesturing a bit with his hands, “I get a rise when some guy steals a look at my outie, I really do. I think a lot of guys don’t think I see, but I do. And many do, but…you’re the first guy…ever…who was kind enough…brave enough?…to take a chance and…say something.”
I looked admiringly at Oliver, trying to mentally transmit for him to come over to me.
Luckily, my attempts worked.
He walked over until his bared stomach and navel were inches from my face. I smelled the scent of a very nice cologne, not overpowering, the right amount. I reached up with my hands and placed them on his hips. And I leaned over slowly, very slowly, and planted my lips around his navel, sucking the soft, supple skin into my mouth, and licking its underside with my tongue.
Oliver exhaled, then gave off a brief gasp of pleasure.
I stuck my tongue out and made a series of back-and-forth, left-and-right strokes across his outie, enjoying the sensation of the tip of my tongue spearing the nub of soft but also slightly firm flesh. He involuntarily gave off soft moans of pleasure.
With my hands, I drew his entire stomach to the side of my face, pushing the lower edge of his white shirt up to reveal more of his stomach. I loved the warmth, the softness of it, and feeling of his outie brushing against my right cheek as I held his waist.
By now he had his hands around the back of my head, lovingly caressing me and the top of my hair. It was tender, gentle, very sweet.
I began a flurry of kisses on his stomach, making a circle pattern around his outie, then going in for the middle once again, began licking it anew, my tongue wetter with saliva.
I reached up for the zipper of his pants and quietly pulled it down. I reached my right hand inside the fly and found his thick, long penis, which I drew out of his pants and left to hang in the air, erect. Then I continued working on his bellybutton with my mouth for a few minutes.
I looked up at him. His eyes were closed and he was entranced. I reached up with my right hand and gently pinched his outie, alternating light and firm pressures. He moaned louder now.
I traced around his navel with my index and forefinger teasingly, enjoying the sensation of it. Then I resumed pinching it, pulling it, playing with in my own curious way.
“I’m going to make you come,” I whispered as a playfully defiant threat to him.
I watched the tip of his penis as I continued fondling his bellybutton, twisting, pulling, flicking, rubbing, alternating a series of motions in as relentless a fashion as I could.
“Oh….oh….” Oliver moaned.
And then the tip of his penis erupted with gray-white, thick, stringy semen, hitting my chin, my upper chest, and falling on the hardwood floor below. Refusing to give in, I kept working his navel with my right fingers, gently stroking the left side of his stomach with my other hand. Another glob of warm semen hit my lips this time, in a blast nearly as strong as the first. I loved it.
Oliver groaned as another couple of shorter eruptions flew out, this time, dangling from the tip of his shaft, defiantly refusing to break off and fall to the floor. Mesmerized, I watched his still-erect and very wet penis in my face, and his outie with my fingers on it, still massaging it.
Perhaps overcome with affection, Oliver pulled my face into his crotch. I felt his body heat, his pubic hair, his penis, and lots of semen against my face, dripping and sliding off, and I just stayed there for several moments as we held this intimate embrace.
I pulled back and with his semen still on my lips, kissed his bellybutton once again, holding my mouth firmly against it.
He took his arms and pulled me up, taking my face in his, and kissing me on the lips, firmly and passionately. And then he pulled me to his chest in one of the warmest, most loving embraces I’ve ever felt in my life. His chest felt so good, even through the white top he was wearing. His arms around my back were incredibly reassuring. I felt his upper shoulder under my still-wet chin.
“I am so, so, so glad you spoke to me out there,” Oliver said, almost with a cry in his voice.
And we held our embrace for a long, long time.