[Jeff's full of surprises. John never thought he'd make the first move, and he didn't expect to be the one on his back either. Turns out Jeff does have some spice. John likes it. He's into the way Jeff feels so big and heavy on top of him. John could throw him off if he wanted to, but he doesn't.
Half the pleasure of being with a man is how obvious their intent is. John doesn't spend a lot of time second-guessing what they want from him. At the end of a day, he's a pleaser. Male. Female. Top. Bottom. John isn't picky. He goes with the flow. All he ever really wants out of sex is to feel wanted.
Even if it's only for as long as it takes for his partner to come.
But sometimes a man like Jeff comes along, tall, with broad shoulders and his own kind of swagger, and the desire hits John like a fist to a gut. It's always this type of man, the type that's nothing like John, that he wants to lose himself in.
He likes when they use him. He forgets himself, and all of his shit, in their needs. All of his failings and shame disappear. Looking into Jeff's eyes, a warm kind of hazel he's never really seen before, John gives something of himself up that he never does unless he's beneath another man of his own accord.
Control.
He tilts his head back, parting his lips to allow more of that tongue into his mouth. He raises a thigh to grind between Jeff's legs, feeling the friction of denim against denim. His hands slide down over Jeff's shoulders, down his lean sides, to ruck jam down the back of his jeans and grab at his ass. Pulling his hips down against him.
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Date: 2018-07-30 04:55 am (UTC)Half the pleasure of being with a man is how obvious their intent is. John doesn't spend a lot of time second-guessing what they want from him. At the end of a day, he's a pleaser. Male. Female. Top. Bottom. John isn't picky. He goes with the flow. All he ever really wants out of sex is to feel wanted.
Even if it's only for as long as it takes for his partner to come.
But sometimes a man like Jeff comes along, tall, with broad shoulders and his own kind of swagger, and the desire hits John like a fist to a gut. It's always this type of man, the type that's nothing like John, that he wants to lose himself in.
He likes when they use him. He forgets himself, and all of his shit, in their needs. All of his failings and shame disappear. Looking into Jeff's eyes, a warm kind of hazel he's never really seen before, John gives something of himself up that he never does unless he's beneath another man of his own accord.
Control.
He tilts his head back, parting his lips to allow more of that tongue into his mouth. He raises a thigh to grind between Jeff's legs, feeling the friction of denim against denim. His hands slide down over Jeff's shoulders, down his lean sides, to ruck jam down the back of his jeans and grab at his ass. Pulling his hips down against him.
'Fuck me' in neon lights.]