When I explain it to people, they tend to get a confused expression on their faces. A dominant bottom? Isn’t that a contradiction? How can that exist? Then they meet my boyfriend and suddenly they get it. Even in khaki shorts and a tight knit tee shirt across his firm pecs, he attracts your eye and your attention. He’s impossible to ignore, even when not saying a word, he has this incredible aura and this steel glint to his eye that makes you wonder what he’s going to do next. It’s his confidence, his swagger.
The boy is going to go places, but there is only one place he’s cumming – on me. Being gay to him is a non-issue. He easily accepted it, as if it was natural to him as breathing. His Type A personality doesn’t accept that he has to sit around until some guy gifts him with his cock. He finds it juvenile. When he wants sex, he needs to be in control the entire time, from actively pursuing a partner to the actual penetration. He quickly deduced that sticking his dick into something was not nearly as pleasurable as riding one. Big cocks, small cocks, curved cocks, he’s taken them all. Unfortunately, most of those cocks were attached to confused men who didn’t know how to react when their “submissive” bottom began to growl and take charge.
I, on the other, love just staying still and relaxing during sex. I love watching my partner fuck himself me because I know he’s in heat. I know he’s crazy, near foaming at the mouth, with the need to be penetrated and my cock is better than any dildo he can buy. It’s hot, it’s damp, it throbs and twitches. It fills him up and soothes the ache. After we had sex a few times, he simply told me, “You know I’m keeping you right?” I couldn’t find a reason to disagree.
Sex is usually triggered by two words: “I’m horny”. He purrs like a kitten and rubs my shoulders. I can rarely ever resist. I obediently climb the stairs and follow him to the bedroom, and there I wait for him to undress me. He pushes me to the bed licks me all over. Soon he’s grinding against me, testing my patience until I’m practically begging. God, I love watching him. He’s poetry in motion. All I have to do is stay still and he devours me. He mounts me and takes me into his body, rocking back and forth on my cock as he pleases. Often he seems he slips into a trance from how good it feels. Normally both of his hands are pressed flat against my chest like a panther that’s pinned his prey. I keep my hands busy, caressing him, tugging on his hair, encouraging him to use me as he desires. My cock is his.
The sex with him is incredible. I would let him lock my cock up if he wanted to, I just can’t resist. I can’t wait until we don’t have to use condoms anymore.
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Text is fictional. Source unknown.
PSA: I am selling some gay sex stories to offset some of my bills; if you’d care to take a look I’d appreciate it.