Posts I guess

I love my man. We just had amazing sex. He was frustrated from work, I was bored and horny from being home all day – no college classes today. We went right from dinner to the bedroom. He was tender to me, careful not to hurt me, but at the same time tempestuous and domineering. I love post-sex cuddles, but he’s biologically programmed to pass out immediately after. At first I resented for this, blamed him for spoiling the mood, but I was a fool.

Even though my balls are empty, my head is a fuzzy mess still running on the last smoldering embers from our lovemaking. Turns out I wanted nothing more to just lie here and enjoy him in a private way. To be honest, I find it a little bit sexy that he just passes out like this. It’s so feral and masculine, the way he just dumps his seed and goes to bed now that his important task of claiming me is finished. Big man like him needs his rest so he can go back to supporting us tomorrow.

Yes, I’m truly content to just rest here next to him, listening to him breathe, watching his chest expand with each breath. He has a beautiful body and a great butt, but as a bottom I only see it in the shower. Despite his swagger and confidence, he is secretly nervous about how bottoms see him, especially those that become lovers. He gets defensive and shy when he catches me ogling him in the bathroom or when he changes. He obsesses over his weight and the perfect balance of “bulking up” and “ketoing”. Since he’s unconscious, I get full insider access to him without the risk of him getting skittish and bolting like a deer in the road.

I had a thought the other day during one of these cuddle sessions, when I was caressing and exploring the terrain of his tree trunk thighs – that it’s almost like getting to see the workings of a great machine. Under this gently curved skin are the thick cords of muscles that allow him to fuck me the way he does. Sure his big dick is what prods my prostate and makes me gasp, but those toe-curling thrusts are all due to the power of his muscles and tendons expanding and contracting around his bones.

I stay up sometimes an hour or more, falling in love with every tiny little part of him that works behind the scenes. The knuckles of his fingers allow him to grip my aching cock. His eyelids keep his dark brown eyes moist. His stubby toes allow him to dig into the mattress and get some real traction. Each little vertebrae in his spine flexes so he can bend over me and kiss my cheek while starting his thrusts. So many little parts of him… I wonder if I’ll ever learn them all, but there will be many more nights like this – he’s horny, I’m horny, he passes out. I find this thought comforting.

When I say I love my man, I mean it… I love the man, every single thing about him.

Text is fictional. Boys are Kris Evans and Marcel Gassion of Bel Ami.


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