“If I had a penis, I would jack off so hard.”
You were amused by my declaration, for some reason. I don’t know why. I was dead serious.
I continued stroking your hard penis and kissing your soft shoulder with my somewhat-chapped lips as we laid there in the small twin-size bed underneath an extremely soft blanket that you liked to refer to as being made of “sex fabric.” You stared at the ceiling as content as peanut butter is with jelly, breathing deeply with your arm around me, enjoying my touches.
“So what’s it like?” I asked you curiously. You turned your head to look at me with your magical, dancing blue eyes.
“What’s what like?”
“What’s it like to get a boner?”
You chuckled lightly, never seeming to tire of my child-like questioning. Often you’d shake your head at me, wondering where I came up with these ideas. Trying to figure out if I was serious, you continued to stare at me, blinking once.
I was determined to have this vital information. “I’m serious. Tell me what it feels like. Please?” I unleashed the puppy dog eyes.
“Um… alright.” You thought about it deeply, trying to master the words to explain it to me. “It’s like, well… ummm… ok, you know how you flex a muscle and it tightens and gets bigger and tense?” You demonstrated with your arm muscle. “It’s kinda like that.”
I thought about this, trying to imagine how I’d feel with a boner. I was slightly jealous.
“So how does it feel for you?” you asked after a minute or so. My curiosity was spreading. I loved that.
“What?” I asked, as if I didn’t know what you were going to ask. I just wanted to hear you say it.
“How does it feel to-- er…” You were so adorably awkward about it. I secretly smiled with pleasure, but kept a straight face. “… to… to have a penis in you?”
I thought about that, stroking my chin and squinting like a true intellectual. “Let me think about that for a second…” I honestly did try to find the words. You looked at me in wonder and anticipation. “It’s like…” I gave up. I couldn’t figure out what to say. I guess I didn’t try that hard in the first place.
A naughty grin spread across my sweet face. “Maybe if you remind me I’ll be able to put it into words better,” I said evilly. You raised an eyebrow as I reached over to kiss you tenderly on the cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. Next, I moved towards your ear, kissing it and wrapping my tongue around each little groove. You were holding me by then, tightening your grip with arousal. I could feel every muscle in your body stiffen a little.
“Are you okay?” I whispered teasingly into your wet ear as you squirmed against my body.
“Uh huh.” It was hardly more than a shallow breath, but said it all. It was time to start moving down. Neck, shoulders, chest, stomach-- I kept crawling downwards. You thought you knew where I was headed (excuse the pun), but at the last moment I moved back up and kissed your trembling lips while allowing my body to cover you completely. You responded eagerly with a warmth and passion that I rarely see (or feel) in you. I could feel you poking at my lower grounds. You were sweating, tortured by the intimacy of this position. It was only when I knew you couldn’t take it anymore and you wanted so badly to force your way into me that I spread my legs, giving you the cue to indulge yourself.
[Insert paragraph full of moans and panting and here- your favorite part.]
You completed the task, falling onto my body and resting your head on my bare breasts. Panting, all you could do was give me a weak kiss and say “That was good” between breaths. This was my favorite part, when I could hold you and stroke your wet hair, feeling like an empress who just conquered a mighty kingdom.
After a little while you caught your breath a little. “I’m going to go clean up,” you said. I knew what would happen next.
You rolled over off of me, sat up on the edge of the bed, stood up, took one step… and fell onto your hands and knees. You moaned, I giggled. This was also my favorite part. A feeling of power shot through me. I was a goddess and you were the helpless man that could not handle my awesome strength! Take that!
“I can’t walk!” I could see that. Was it that surprising? You’re helplessness was beautiful.
“Um… do you need any help, dear?” I offered this mockingly. I wouldn’t help you! I was having too much fun watching you struggle. You wouldn’t let me anyways-- you liked the challenge of it. I continued watching you crawl towards the bathroom while I basked in the glory of my accomplishment. We both wreaked of hot, steamy sex.
When you returned, still weak and sweaty and smelly, the first thing you asked me was “So, how does it feel?”
I smiled. I was doing that a lot lately, for some reason. “It feels good. Really, really good.” There’s no other way to describe it. I kissed you quietly and laid the subject to rest.
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