It was the moment you were waiting for. The moment of surrender.
It had started with a gym meeting, as it usually did with you. You were shy – because how could you not be, with that blond god in front of you. You didn’t mind when he corrected you on form, in front of all your friends, leaving you a bit red faced.
You didn’t even mind the possessive, sweaty arm on your shoulder as he guided you out of the gym – you freshly washed, him still reeking of sweat in his compression gear. Something that you hated in others, but with him just made you salivate.
Your dick was doing the thinking for you. It rationalised, in a short discussion with your brain, that you could perhaps find a way a way of keeping your “total top” reputation later on, after you had a taste of that mountain of a man.
You had gone into your house prepared for a night of submission. Open to it. Craving for it in a sense, because the situation was as unreal as the man himself. A golden god.
He sat down, and asked for a drink, which you promptly served. You then talked about mindless drivel while he silently looked at you. Your gaze kept dropping to his bulge, that grew considerably every time you betrayed yourself and looked.
Your mouth watered.
And then he asked for another drink. Which you poured and he knocked back. And another.
When he stood up and stripped his shirt, mussing his hair and flexing his pecs, you fell silent and dry mouthed. When he approached with the grace of a panther on the prowl, your dick stiffened so hard that your bulge became the thing that comedy skits are written about – stretching your trousers at a weird level, dick making a wet spot on the fabric.
But when he kneeled in front of you and nuzzled his face against it, covering the fabric with his own spit? Then the universe just exploded with surprise and possibilities.
Before the night was out, you had fed him the load you had shot on his handsome face, with swift swipes of your fingers. The creamy skin of his hips bore your finger marks, and his ass was red from spanking. He left sheepish, justifying his behaviour with alcohol.
