Head Boy - Sex Stories

Head Boy

... minimum before getting into him in a big hurry, justovercome with the need...

"God," Symon grunted, as I bore down. "Fffuck...eeeeurgh..."

I knew he wasn't complaining. He'd gotvery good at taking me. I watched myself sinking in, in...oh my fucking godall the way in until my hips touched his flesh...

We'd never tried this position before, but apparently his arse being all round and cushion-y like this, it was its own buffer zone...I dragged out, pushed in again...all the way in. Even ground down. Without hitting anything inside.

I took a few moments to just bask in it, the heady pleasure of being buried as deep as I could go, and then when I started up again there was even a new joy, a cherry on top - the slapping sound of my skin against his, marking time for our fuck...

Thrust, thrust, thrust. Slap, slap, slap...I pushed up off my elbows onto my wrists, shifting it up a gear, and the slaps got louder. Symon got louder, too. Ever since he'd confided his preference for bottoming, he seemed more comfortable letting his enjoyment show, and I usually got a fair bit of auditory feedback while fucking, but today the moaning was edging toward wailing...

Wait, no...that wasactual wailing. Whoops. Too much. I pulled back, paused.

Symon raised his head a fraction. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Checking that you're okay...?"

"Of course I'm okay!" He said irritably. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Well, you sounded kinda-"

He reached back an arm and ...

... punched me - clumsily - in the ribs. "Whatever! Alright, I'll yell into the pillow! Just - don't keepstopping!"

I sighed to myself. C'mon. I stopped once. Literally once. But actually I liked that he was so wild for it that he got all irrational when it wasn't happening anymore...

I started again, slipping into the rhythm, the sync, theflow ...time stood still for me when I was fucking - or at least, it passed differently. Shooting off too quickly was never a problem, ongoingly holding myself up in what was effectively a plank, after a shift of lifting stuff - not a problem. And tonight, there wasn't even a problem with my length. No problems, just a zone of perfection...

...total perfection, until Symon disentangled himself from the pillow and gasped;

"Need to cum! Need to cum!!"

...and I realised that actually therewas one problem - no towel down. I pulled out, scrambled to the side, and flipped him over onto his back as fast as I could, ripping off the condom and kneeling astride his thighs, beating myself furiously as he did the same...

"Is the bed okay?" Symon asked afterwards, sounding drowsy but craning his neck to look, unable to sit up without risking spillage...

I nodded as I helped him out of his t-shirt so I could use it to mop up - it had a bit of cum on it anyway...

"Yeah, it's all on you. Which is where it should be..."

He laughed. "Actually looks better on you, with your skin tone..."

"No," I told him. "This is perfect."

He shrugged ...