Naval Academy Wrestler

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Chapter 6

"Greg," I responded, "thanks to you, my dick is already hard. Very hard. And I'm giving it to you. I want you to have it. My only condition is that you show me you can make the most of it. I want you to remember tonight forever. I want to see you take your time and really enjoy it. Don't do what you think I want. What I want is for you to do what you want. What you really want. I know you want to savor this. I want to see you make the most of all your senses."

He was still looking up at me, but now his guilty expression had been replaced by one of eagerness.

"You can name the five senses, can't you, Greg?"

He nodded. "There's touch," he whispered, "sight, hearing, smell" - he paused for just a second - "and taste."

"Let's start with touch," I said. "Use your tongue and feel the different parts of my dick." Maintaining eye contact, he extended the tip of his tongue and slowly licked from the base of my shaft all the way up to the head. For me, the sensation was electric. I could feel my nipples harden and my balls tighten. He seemed to enjoy it too. He went back to the base and retraced his path. "Now feel around the head," I urged him. I nearly got goosebumps as he flicked his tongue against my piss slit. Then he licked around the circumference of my helmet. Finally, he had the head resting on his outstretched tongue and pointing toward his puckered lips. He looked into my eyes for approval. I nodded, and he slowly pressed forward over just the tip of my penis. The heat and wetness of his mouth felt amazing enough, but the sensations really intensified as his lips locked around my corona and he started to swirl his tongue.

I smiled while staring into his eyes. He was loving this. So was I. I don't think my dick had ever been so hard, and I could feel myself leaking. I alerted him to another one of his senses: "Can you taste what you're doing to me? How good you're making me feel?" Not wanting to pull off my cock head, he moaned in affirmation. The vibration nearly made me shudder.

"Now take me slowly," I whispered. I saw a bit of confusion in his eyes, so I rested my palm on the back of his head. That seemed to clarify things. He bobbed his head and took about an inch of my shaft into his mouth. "Remember to focus on how things feel and taste," I said. He backed off slowly, then want back down again, this time a little bit farther. His head was still, but I could feel the length of his tongue slowly stroking up the underside of my cock. He was trying to milk out more pre-cum. It felt really good, but of course it also fired me up. I wanted more. I needed it. He seemed to sense as much.

He bobbed his head again, this time swallowing even more of me, and this time establishing a sucking rhythm. Watching my dick sink partway into his mouth, over and over as he nursed on me, made me wonder if Freud would guess his mom had weaned him too soon. Certainly he was a natural. It was as if he'd been born for this. "That's it," I said through gritted teeth. "Damn, that's good."

Greg reached up to cup my hairy ass cheeks. He wasn't just holding them. He was caressing them to experience the sensation of my light coating of ass fuzz tickling his fingers. As I had asked, he savoring this experience. He was making the most of his first real opportunity to suck a man's cock. But Greg had needs, as did I. A few minutes later, I didn't complain when felt him grasp my ass and pick up the pace.

He was now swallowing about three-quarters of my cock. His eyes were squinted and his lips were glistening with saliva. I felt one of his hands drop from my ass and saw him reach for his own turgid cock. Before he could touch himself, I swatted his hand away. "Tug my balls," I said, and he did. My nuts felt wonderful wrapped in the heat of his sweaty palm. I called his attention to the sound of his lips smacking and slobbering and to the gulps of his throat. "Don't forget to listen," I reminded him. "That's the sound of you manning up to what you want. You've been craving this and you're not going to censor yourself." He quickened his pace even more. Damnit he was good. I could feel myself beginning to crest the wave toward the point of no return.

That's when I pushed back on his shoulders and pulled out of his mouth. I wanted to prolong the action. Greg deserved the full experience.

He looked up at me, expectantly. He was panting. I could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Catch your breath," I told him. "You see my cock? See it glistening with your spit? See how hard you made it?"

I twitched it so that it bobbed before his eyes. He licked his lips.

"Let's slow things down for a couple of minutes," I said. "The one sense we missed is smell."

Next: Greg's rewards...
 
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hairyjacques said:
Chapter 6

"Greg," I responded, "thanks to you, my dick is already hard. Very hard. And I'm giving it to you. I want you to have it. My only condition is that you show me you can make the most of it. I want you to remember tonight forever. I want to see you take your time and really enjoy it. Don't do what you think I want. What I want is for you to do what you want. What you really want. I know you want to savor this. I want to see you make the most of all your senses."

He was still looking up at me, but now his guilty expression had been replaced by one of eagerness.

"You can name the five senses, can't you, Greg?"

He nodded. "There's touch," he whispered, "sight, hearing, smell" - he paused for just a second - "and taste."

"Let's start with touch," I said. "Use your tongue and feel the different parts of my dick." Maintaining eye contact, he extended the tip of his tongue and slowly licked from the base of my shaft all the way up to the head. For me, the sensation was electric. I could feel my nipples harden and my balls tighten. He seemed to enjoy it too. He went back to the base and retraced his path. "Now feel around the head," I urged him. I nearly got goosebumps as he flicked his tongue against my piss slit. Then he licked around the circumference of my helmet. Finally, he had the head resting on his outstretched tongue and pointing toward his puckered lips. He looked into my eyes for approval. I nodded, and he slowly pressed forward over just the tip of my penis. The heat and wetness of his mouth felt amazing enough, but the sensations really intensified as his lips locked around my corona and he started to swirl his tongue.

I smiled while staring into his eyes. He was loving this. So was I. I don't think my dick had ever been so hard, and I could feel myself leaking. I alerted him to another one of his senses: "Can you taste what you're doing to me? How good you're making me feel?" Not wanting to pull off my cock head, he moaned in affirmation. The vibration nearly made me shudder.

"Now take me slowly," I whispered. I saw a bit of confusion in his eyes, so I rested my palm on the back of his head. That seemed to clarify things. He bobbed his head and took about an inch of my shaft into his mouth. "Remember to focus on how things feel and taste," I said. He backed off slowly, then want back down again, this time a little bit farther. His head was still, but I could feel the length of his tongue slowly stroking up the underside of my cock. He was trying to milk out more pre-cum. It felt really good, but of course it also fired me up. I wanted more. I needed it. He seemed to sense as much.

He bobbed his head again, this time swallowing even more of me, and this time establishing a sucking rhythm. Watching my dick sink partway into his mouth, over and over as he nursed on me, made me wonder if Freud would guess his mom had weaned him too soon. Certainly he was a natural. It was as if he'd been born for this. "That's it," I said through gritted teeth. "Damn, that's good."

Greg reached up to cup my hairy ass cheeks. He wasn't just holding them. He was caressing them to experience the sensation of my light coating of ass fuzz tickling his fingers. As I had asked, he savoring this experience. He was making the most of his first real opportunity to suck a man's cock. But Greg had needs, as did I. A few minutes later, I didn't complain when felt him grasp my ass and pick up the pace.

He was now swallowing about three-quarters of my cock. His eyes were squinted and his lips were glistening with saliva. I felt one of his hands drop from my ass and saw him reach for his own turgid cock. Before he could touch himself, I swatted his hand away. "Tug my balls," I said, and he did. My nuts felt wonderful wrapped in the heat of his sweaty palm. I called his attention to the sound of his lips smacking and slobbering and to the gulps of his throat. "Don't forget to listen," I reminded him. "That's the sound of you manning up to what you want. You've been craving this and you're not going to censor yourself." He quickened his pace even more. Damnit he was good. I could feel myself beginning to crest the wave toward the point of no return.

That's when I pushed back on his shoulders and pulled out of his mouth. I wanted to prolong the action. Greg deserved the full experience.

He looked up at me, expectantly. He was panting. I could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Catch your breath," I told him. "You see my cock? See it glistening with your spit? See how hard you made it?"

I twitched it so that it bobbed before his eyes. He licked his lips.

"Let's slow things down for a couple of minutes," I said. "The one sense we missed is smell."

Next: Greg's rewards...
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Freud hahaha
A little more Klein for this concept than Freud no ? Haha
 
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Chapter 7

"Let's slow things down for a couple of minutes," I said. "The one sense we missed is smell."

He smiled when I said that. His grin was mischievous, as if he'd been granted permission to do what he had wanted all along. He raised up a bit on the bed, leaned forward, and pressed his nose into the dense tangle of my pubes. He inhaled deeply and held his breath. When finally he exhaled I could feel the warm air leave his nostrils. Then he inhaled again.

"What's it remind you of?" I whispered.

As he looked up at me I could see the wheels turning. What Greg said next was unintentionally revealing: "You smell amazing - like a sweaty singlet or jockstrap."

"Like yours?"

"No," he admitted. "Better. Like a teammate's."

My heart kind of swelled when I realized what he was confessing. Greg got off sniffing other wrestlers' undies. That was hot. I could picture myself getting off on that sort of thing, too. I leaned down as I gently grabbed his hair, tilting his head back. I kissed him, allowing my lips to linger. He opened his mouth to grant me access and our tongues intertwined. I took advantage of my new position to reach down and grip his cock. As soon as my hand encircled him, he released a hot stream of precum that pooled on the side of my thumb. I broke our kiss as I lifted my hand to my mouth and gave it a taste. It was sweet, like watered down honey. There was still some left, so I offered it to him. He opened his mouth and sucked my thumb.

I stood straight up to present him with something else to suck on, but he surprised me by pressing my dick up against my navel and instead going for my balls. First his licked my sac, using his saliva to flatten the hairs of my scrotum against the wrinkly skin. He took my left nut into my mouth, pulling back gently while his rolled it around on his tongue. Soon my right nut received the same treatment until it exited his lips with a soft "pop." Then he took both in his mouth, bathing them in the heat and wetness, bobbing his head ever so gently, and moving his tongue in little circles.

Without even thinking, I pinched my nipples and heard myself vocalize something between a moan and a sigh. I looked down to see my hard cock resting on the side of his nose and extending across his forehead into his hair, which softly tickled my helmet.

The sensations, almost overwhelming, made me worry I'd cum right then and there. I had no intention of shooting into Greg's hair. To be honest, I hadn't even planned on cumming in his mouth. When I started this little sensory adventure I saw it as a way to teach him some things and maybe establish some dominance before having my way with his ass. With my wife I could never cum more than once, but with Greg I was pretty sure I could get it up again after a brief rest. It might even be a good thing if I came before taking his cherry. I'd last longer, I told myself. Given the state I was in I'm not sure if this was smart planning or simple rationalization, but at the moment I didn't much care.

His lips made a loud slurping noise as I slowly withdrew my balls from his mouth.

He looked up at me plaintively. "There's something you still need to taste," I whispered. He smiled and opened his mouth.

Part of me wanted to jam my cock down his throat, but then I remembered that this was his first real time. I rested my hands on the back of his head, encouraging him. He leaned forward, unfurled his tongue, and licked from the top of my balls all the way up the underside of my shaft to the head of my cock. He circled it with his tongue, puckered his lips, and slowly went down on me. I didn't expect him to be able to take it all, but then I saw his nose buried in my pubes. He started to suck, bobbing his head quickly and somehow swallowing in a rhythm that matched his movements back and forth. He had me. He had me on the edge.

I could hear myself breathing hard, I could feel my fingers running through his hair and my hips starting to thrust. I looked down and saw his wide shoulders, his muscular back, his narrow waist, and that sexy little patch of hair just above the waistband of his underwear. I saw his firm, full, muscular ass, practically bursting out of his BVDs. I heard him slurping on my cock. I felt his hot saliva leaking from his lips and trickling over my contracted balls.

I felt myself crest the wave. My whole body stiffened. I exhaled sharply and shot one, then two, then three, then four thick volleys of cum into Greg's mouth. I started to shudder. The sensations were just too much. I bent forward at the waist as Greg continued to suck me. I could hear him gulp and feel him swallow. Finally, right before the moment when I couldn't take it any more, I pulled out, pushing him back against the bed before buckling over on top of him. Our lips pressed together as his muscular arms embraced me. We panted as we exchanged wet, sloppy kisses and my hips bucked forward into the heat and hardness of his cock.

I could barely see straight. I don't think I'd ever felt an orgasm so intense. Greg pressed his tongue into my mouth, sharing the remnants of my cum. I nuzzled his neck. I felt his fingertips lightly stroke the naked skin of my back. It was a tender moment. I'm not sure how much time passed: maybe several minutes, maybe not. When I finally pecked him on the lips he smiled at me.

"That was amazing," I whispered.

"You're an amazing teacher," he replied.

"Last night or just now?" I asked. I wasn't sure if he had learned from my example or my instruction.

"Both," he said, nibbling the edge of my ear. "And there's a lot more I want to learn."

Even though I had just cum, I could feel my erection begin to stir. I pressed forward into his groin. The cotton of his underwear provided just the right amount of friction on the underside of my dick. I could feel alongside it the heat of his own throbbing cock, still sticking out of his fly.

Regaining a bit of my strength, I propped myself up on my elbows. This allowed him to shift a bit. His palms slid down from my back and traced up my sides to caress my pecs. His fingers gently pinched and pulled down on my nipples. Releasing them, he raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head.

"You like my armpits?" The tone of his voice made it a question, but it could have worked as a statement.

I love armpits, and I especially loved Greg's. Pit hair had turned me on since junior high school, when it became for me a visible sign of masculinity and sexual maturity. It helped signify the difference between boy and man. Real men had hair under their arms. To me, pit hair on a guy is like blooms on a rose. I pressed my nose into the damp hair of Greg's left pit. The smell of him brought about an almost involuntary reaction: I thrust my stiffening cock into his cloth-covered crotch.

"Easy tiger," he said, quoting my words back at me. "Let's slow things down for a couple of minutes. We can catch our breath."

I have to admit feeling kind of disappointed. I didn't want to take a break from what at that point was the hottest hookup of my life. But of course there's give and take in every relationship. "You want to take a shower?" I offered.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Do I need one?"

"Hell no," I whispered. "I love the way you smell."

This caused him to smile. "What I had in mind for slowing things down," he said, "was something both of us might like. Any interest in giving me a tongue bath?"

Next: Savoring Greg
 
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Chapter 8

"What I had in mind for slowing things down," he said, "was something both of us might like. Any interest in giving me a tongue bath?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. I pressed my face back into his pit, inhaled deeply, and extended my tongue. Soon I was in danger of suffering from sensory overload. There was the visual, of course. All the muscles of Greg's chest and arm seemed to point toward the manly canal between them. And then there was the fact that Greg's pit hair was smooth and silky but acquired an almost coarse texture when matted down with my saliva. He tasted salty and his manly aroma verged on the animalistic. It wasn't the freshest sweat, after all. He'd started perspiring hours earlier at wrestling practice, and then again he soaked the fabric of his PT shirt running to my place. But all this sweat, all this musk, had been refreshed and recharged during the erotic heat of his submission to my cock. So he was moist, and not only with my saliva. There was nothing rank about his pits, at least not to me. His scent was strong but also, if not exactly fresh, somehow young. In other words, his odor was less like the smell of an older dude at the end of his factory shift and more like a college jock exiting a gym. And that was Greg: a college jock. The only thing regrettable about licking and sucking his armpit was that it caused the taste and smell to dissipate. But if Greg's sweat was disappearing as I exchanged it with my spit, his gentle sighs and the caress of his strong fingers in my hair signaled that he remained very much in the moment. So did his cock, which throbbed and leaked alongside my own.

I fought the urge to keep thrusting, in part because I'd been admonished to slow things down and in part because I knew that, if I sped things up, I'd end up cumming onto the fabric of his tighty whities. I had better plans.

For the moment, however, I contented myself with his other pit. "Contented" is too weak a word, of course. I could hardly believe I was lucky enough to get so up close and personal with Greg. He was a physical specimen, a total stud, a premier Naval Academy athlete, and no doubt the object of the fantasies of many young women and more than a few young men.

Certainly he was a dream to me, and yet all of this was real. It was even real that Greg, a college wrestler and future naval officer a decade younger than me, seemed almost as turned on by me as I knew I was by him.

That's when he flipped over on top of me. It was as if he had read my mind and wanted to validate my thought. He wanted my body. He pinned my arms over my head and returned the favor, suddenly feverish in his need as he swabbed my pits with his tongue. He quickly turned his attention to my nipples, sucking with his mouth, nipping with his teeth, and swirling with his tongue, which he then flattened and extended in order to drag it across the hair on my chest.

As his head rose up from my collarbone he established eye contact. I held it. I wanted to say something but resolved to remain silent for a moment. After all, it was his thoughts I wanted to hear.

His eyes sort of sparkled as he said it: "I've wanted this for so long. Not just with any dude, but with someone like you, who would be my coach."

At that moment my hunch was that he wasn't asking for role play. He was asking for mentorship. In hindsight, I'm fairly certain I was right. He didn't want to be bossed around or barked at. He wanted to be guided by a guy who knew more than he did and who could help him reach his potential. I was flattered he'd see me this way. More to the point, I resolved to be up to the task.

I rolled him over onto his side, running my hand along the length of his torso, his briefs, and then his naked thigh. I grabbed his cock, still hard and leaking as it projected from the fly of his BVDs. Releasing it, I let my fingers trace a path north from the waistband of his underwear. I followed the short little hairs of his treasure trail up to his sternum and reached left and right to caress his muscular pecs.

Then I nudged him backward against the mattress. I couldn't resist any longer. I had to taste his cock again. I started by kissing him on the lips but quickly worked by way down, tracing my tongue over the patch of hair at the center of his chest and then following the path of his treasure trail. By the time I reached his navel I was fondling my cock, just to make sure I was hard and ready to go. I was. As my eyes soon confirmed, so was Greg. His dick was protruding obscenely from his briefs.

I had denied myself long enough. I licked my lips, took in the sight of his throbbing cock, and lowered my face. Starting at the base, immediately above his cloth-covered balls, the tip of my tongue traced a feather-light path along the underside of his shaft. As I reached his prepuce, that extra-sensitive spot where his shaft met his helmet, I started to gently flick my tongue. This brought forth a gasp from Greg and a tiny dollop of pre-cum from the tip of his cock. I dipped my tongue in it and then pulled back. His sticky juice, thin as a spider web glistening in the light, for a long second refused to let go. I then got down to business.

As my lips surrounded him, my nose went to work, inhaling deeply. His musk was strong. He had been sweating all afternoon - first at wrestling practice, then on his run, and then during the course of our hot hookup session. It was such a goddamn turn-on to smell him. So much so that I relinquished his dick and pressed my nose into the damp fabric of his briefs. I inhaled and felt my own cock stiffen. My lips latched on to his underwear and started to suck on the cloth, drawing out the salt of his sweat. I tongued his balls through the fabric, pulling first at the left one and then the right. The taste and the aroma, manly and strong, called to mind my own college memories of locker rooms full of hot young men, their pumped-up muscles glistening with sweat and confidence.

For the past 45 minutes, the sight of Greg's cock, protruding through his fly, had tantalized and tempted. It was like I was a kid again, and my most hoped-for Christmas toy had been left partially unwrapped under the tree. Of course I wanted to rip off the last of the wrapping paper. But I also wanted to prolong the anticipation and expectation. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. Now, I decided, was the time to eat the cake. It was time to finish the unwrapping of Greg's gift to me.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his BVDs and slowly pulled it down. The first inch merely uncovered more of his treasure trail, but the second inch exposed the top of his pubes. I kissed, smelled, and tasted his silky hair before pulling down another inch or so. This exposed most of Greg's bush and the very base of his turgid cock. As my nostrils made contact with his nest of hair I breathed in the fullness and intensity of his musk. My cock twitched; it was so hard it almost hurt. Finally I pulled Greg's shorts down far enough that his shaft slipped through his fly and smacked back against his lower abs. I paused for a long second to take in the sight of him. Then I swallowed hard and did my best to cover my teeth with my lips.
As he filled my throat, I could taste not only his salty flesh but also the sweetness of his pre-cum. Soon I was bobbing up and down. I felt my eyes water as the width of his cock stretched my throat. But this only spurred me on. It was as if I couldn't get enough of him. And of course, I couldn't. I couldn't possibly get enough of Greg. I wanted all of him.

As his pubic hair tickled the insides of my nostrils I backed away. I hooked my hands under his knees and lifted his legs. This exposed his balls and hairy ass crack but his BVDs, still mid-thigh, constrained his range of movement. I wanted full access, so I pushed his underwear down his muscular thighs until he was free of all constraints. As Greg grabbed his ankles, I saw his ass spread before me in all its glory.

Next: Going all the way...
 
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hairyjacques said:
Chapter 8

"What I had in mind for slowing things down," he said, "was something both of us might like. Any interest in giving me a tongue bath?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. I pressed my face back into his pit, inhaled deeply, and extended my tongue. Soon I was in danger of suffering from sensory overload. There was the visual, of course. All the muscles of Greg's chest and arm seemed to point toward the manly canal between them. And then there was the fact that Greg's pit hair was smooth and silky but acquired an almost coarse texture when matted down with my saliva. He tasted salty and his manly aroma verged on the animalistic. It wasn't the freshest sweat, after all. He'd started perspiring hours earlier at wrestling practice, and then again he soaked the fabric of his PT shirt running to my place. But all this sweat, all this musk, had been refreshed and recharged during the erotic heat of his submission to my cock. So he was moist, and not only with my saliva. There was nothing rank about his pits, at least not to me. His scent was strong but also, if not exactly fresh, somehow young. In other words, his odor was less like the smell of an older dude at the end of his factory shift and more like a college jock exiting a gym. And that was Greg: a college jock. The only thing regrettable about licking and sucking his armpit was that it caused the taste and smell to dissipate. But if Greg's sweat was disappearing as I exchanged it with my spit, his gentle sighs and the caress of his strong fingers in my hair signaled that he remained very much in the moment. So did his cock, which throbbed and leaked alongside my own.

I fought the urge to keep thrusting, in part because I'd been admonished to slow things down and in part because I knew that, if I sped things up, I'd end up cumming onto the fabric of his tighty whities. I had better plans.

For the moment, however, I contented myself with his other pit. "Contented" is too weak a word, of course. I could hardly believe I was lucky enough to get so up close and personal with Greg. He was a physical specimen, a total stud, a premier Naval Academy athlete, and no doubt the object of the fantasies of many young women and more than a few young men.

Certainly he was a dream to me, and yet all of this was real. It was even real that Greg, a college wrestler and future naval officer a decade younger than me, seemed almost as turned on by me as I knew I was by him.

That's when he flipped over on top of me. It was as if he had read my mind and wanted to validate my thought. He wanted my body. He pinned my arms over my head and returned the favor, suddenly feverish in his need as he swabbed my pits with his tongue. He quickly turned his attention to my nipples, sucking with his mouth, nipping with his teeth, and swirling with his tongue, which he then flattened and extended in order to drag it across the hair on my chest.

As his head rose up from my collarbone he established eye contact. I held it. I wanted to say something but resolved to remain silent for a moment. After all, it was his thoughts I wanted to hear.

His eyes sort of sparkled as he said it: "I've wanted this for so long. Not just with any dude, but with someone like you, who would be my coach."

At that moment my hunch was that he wasn't asking for role play. He was asking for mentorship. In hindsight, I'm fairly certain I was right. He didn't want to be bossed around or barked at. He wanted to be guided by a guy who knew more than he did and who could help him reach his potential. I was flattered he'd see me this way. More to the point, I resolved to be up to the task.

I rolled him over onto his side, running my hand along the length of his torso, his briefs, and then his naked thigh. I grabbed his cock, still hard and leaking as it projected from the fly of his BVDs. Releasing it, I let my fingers trace a path north from the waistband of his underwear. I followed the short little hairs of his treasure trail up to his sternum and reached left and right to caress his muscular pecs.

Then I nudged him backward against the mattress. I couldn't resist any longer. I had to taste his cock again. I started by kissing him on the lips but quickly worked by way down, tracing my tongue over the patch of hair at the center of his chest and then following the path of his treasure trail. By the time I reached his navel I was fondling my cock, just to make sure I was hard and ready to go. I was. As my eyes soon confirmed, so was Greg. His dick was protruding obscenely from his briefs.

I had denied myself long enough. I licked my lips, took in the sight of his throbbing cock, and lowered my face. Starting at the base, immediately above his cloth-covered balls, the tip of my tongue traced a feather-light path along the underside of his shaft. As I reached his prepuce, that extra-sensitive spot where his shaft met his helmet, I started to gently flick my tongue. This brought forth a gasp from Greg and a tiny dollop of pre-cum from the tip of his cock. I dipped my tongue in it and then pulled back. His sticky juice, thin as a spider web glistening in the light, for a long second refused to let go. I then got down to business.

As my lips surrounded him, my nose went to work, inhaling deeply. His musk was strong. He had been sweating all afternoon - first at wrestling practice, then on his run, and then during the course of our hot hookup session. It was such a goddamn turn-on to smell him. So much so that I relinquished his dick and pressed my nose into the damp fabric of his briefs. I inhaled and felt my own cock stiffen. My lips latched on to his underwear and started to suck on the cloth, drawing out the salt of his sweat. I tongued his balls through the fabric, pulling first at the left one and then the right. The taste and the aroma, manly and strong, called to mind my own college memories of locker rooms full of hot young men, their pumped-up muscles glistening with sweat and confidence.

For the past 45 minutes, the sight of Greg's cock, protruding through his fly, had tantalized and tempted. It was like I was a kid again, and my most hoped-for Christmas toy had been left partially unwrapped under the tree. Of course I wanted to rip off the last of the wrapping paper. But I also wanted to prolong the anticipation and expectation. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. Now, I decided, was the time to eat the cake. It was time to finish the unwrapping of Greg's gift to me.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his BVDs and slowly pulled it down. The first inch merely uncovered more of his treasure trail, but the second inch exposed the top of his pubes. I kissed, smelled, and tasted his silky hair before pulling down another inch or so. This exposed most of Greg's bush and the very base of his turgid cock. As my nostrils made contact with his nest of hair I breathed in the fullness and intensity of his musk. My cock twitched; it was so hard it almost hurt. Finally I pulled Greg's shorts down far enough that his shaft slipped through his fly and smacked back against his lower abs. I paused for a long second to take in the sight of him. Then I swallowed hard and did my best to cover my teeth with my lips.
As he filled my throat, I could taste not only his salty flesh but also the sweetness of his pre-cum. Soon I was bobbing up and down. I felt my eyes water as the width of his cock stretched my throat. But this only spurred me on. It was as if I couldn't get enough of him. And of course, I couldn't. I couldn't possibly get enough of Greg. I wanted all of him.

As his pubic hair tickled the insides of my nostrils I backed away. I hooked my hands under his knees and lifted his legs. This exposed his balls and hairy ass crack but his BVDs, still mid-thigh, constrained his range of movement. I wanted full access, so I pushed his underwear down his muscular thighs until he was free of all constraints. As Greg grabbed his ankles, I saw his ass spread before me in all its glory.

Next: Going all the way...
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I want the next one so bad.
 
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