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Little Boy

By Cougar

submitted August 7, 1997

Categories: Romance

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My name is C and I am a good-looking gay male, 28 years old. I have light brown hair and green eyes, and a medium, lanky build. My husband's name is T. He is voluptuous, blond and stocky, with a sweetly handsome face. I call my husband my "" although he is a year older than me in reality.

When I bring him his coffee every morning--I have to wake him up because he's such a sleepyhead--I love to pull the covers down, revealing his beautiful, smooth form to my loving eyes. "Good morning, sunshine," I always say to him as he sits up in bed. He blushes shyly although he enjoys me flirting with him so seductively. He feels loved, like the most beautiful in the world, when I lightly stroke his chest, run a slow but relentless finger around his tightening nipples, rub his warm round tummy, and lightly kiss his fragrant tanned skin, drawing in deep the aroma of my soft blonde boy-lover.

He sips his coffee and he stretches and flirts as we chat, showing himself off innocently yet knowingly. He knows the lump in my underwear is growing, lengthening, acquiring girth, but he keeps his eyes lowered, fluttering his eyelashes shyly, like Bambi.

I am not shy. My own eyelids lower with lust and the saliva begins to flow within my morning-coffeed mouth. Oh, to open my self and my soul to this heavenly creature, flesh of my flesh!!

I place my mouth on his, his beautifully sculpted rosebuds against my own, his lips slightly parted, both of us beginning to breathe heavily. My mouth wants to devour him whole, but I maintain control so I can delicately tease and tantalize his adolescent hormones into taut, full desire. My cock is enormous, pushing against the waistband of my tight, flesh-toned bikini underwear.

While I sniff and peck and rub myself against my boy, he allows his fingers to roam to the warmest climates on my feverish body. His fingers are a soothing balm, relaxing and refreshing and rejuvenating to my health and vitality. I use my mouth as his balm. I want to make him feel good all over.

My fingers play at his belly button, flicking his navel ring from side to side. (This boy loves to pierce his body parts! I never know WHAT he'll come home with.) His hairless pubic area, carefully shaved and impeccably maintained to remain baby-smooth, makes his thick wienie look almost like a child's. It is beginning to become full with its sanguine fluid, the head popping out from beneath a hank of delicate foreskin. He parts his hairless thighs in relaxation, and my fingers gently knead and massage his firm yet generous upper thighs and lower buttocks. He lets a whimper escape and his body temperature perceptively rises to my tender touch.

Kissing his ears, flicking my warm wet tongue inside its darkness, he squirms with pleasure. His mouth opens and his tongue lolls out of his mouth, begging to meet and frolic and mingle with my own. The hot tongue play increases his vibrations of innocent love and he lets a small moan escape.

I am squeezing his erect tits again with both hands, a bit harder now, to sensitize them for my busy lips, teeth and tongue. I climb astride him and press my own chest to his eager mouth. He sucks and toys at my nipples, running his hands up and down my torso. My long dick is fully upright, all but my testicles plunging upward from the waistband of my briefs.

His penis is flopping against my parted ass I sit on his belly, and I know what he wants. However, I know what he will like even better this morning, and so will I.

"Ooh, you're so hard," I marvel at his stiff penis, stroking it with my fingers. "I want to make mty baby feel real good." And so I bend down over him, taking it in one hand, and gently squeeze a drop of precum juice onto the tip, which I lap teasingly with a pointed tongue, massaging the piss slit firmly. Then, my saliva beginning to drool, I lower my warm wet mouth down onto the length of his thick penis. Its circumference is almost that of a can of soda, but my oral lubrication and his soft skin slide it all the way down my open throat, toward the epiglottis. Oh, how I love making my baby boy's wiener come to life.

I pull my mouth halfway up and plunge downward again, even deeper, gagging myself as I give the boy the Peppermint Patty sensation! I love making him feel good and I work tirelessly, plunging up and down on his stiff meat, allowing it to rape my mouth so completely that it brings tears to my eyes.

Then I throw my boy's leg over my shoulder--quite a task for a slight guy like me!--and begin to tap and poke and rub his white, round bottom, framed by a perfect tanline. Knowing how it will give him a delicious feeling, I lightly swat the cheeks, parting them occasionally for a smack in the sensitive area in between them. Then I kiss his anus tenderly, licking it and blowing cool air onto it before I smack it again.

I pull on his egg-sized balls, "so big for such a ," I whisper in awe as I work first one, then the other, then both, by rolling them in a cupped palm. I squeeze and tease the shaft of his penis, until his hips buck and tremble.

I reposition myself to capture his stiff boyhood into my mouth once again, moving up and down in opposition to his thrusting hips. He clasps my head against his groin, pulling at the thick brown hair atop my head, using my open face to take his youthful pleasures. The rhythm of his thrusting quickens to lightning speed, then--

"Ahh" he cries--it is a cry of pain, relief and ecstasy, as he clutches my head roughly and spurts his boy-fluid into my willing vessel. I swallow as much as I can of the bittersweet elixir, then fall beside him, spent and wild-eyed, mouth foaming like a dog with rabies. My fingers greedily grope his thing for some last drops of lubrication.

His fingers reach inside the waistband of my underwear and he pulls it down, cupping by balls as I work my own rock-hard prick with a cum and saliva lubed hand. His mouth is on mine, licking and stroking the inside of my mouth, as I breathlessly ask if I made him feel good. "Mm, yeah," he answers. "I love it when you suck me."

The words turn me on to the point of blasting. My load shoots across the bed and onto the antique mahogany bedpost. Oh, how heavenly to be loved and wanted and needed, to be good at something!

I get up, wipe myself off, and throw him a towel. "Rise and shine. Time to hit the showers, champ!" And I trot off to toast him a pop tart while he gets ready for work.

Oh, T, I marvel, swallowing hard in the kitchen. You are my secret fountain of youth.


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