His Pussy Boy

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I looked up from the bed – their marital bed. There he was, in all his naked majesty, his masculine body lean from years of basketball and running. He was wearing his horn-rimmed glasses, which made the disdain in his face more pronounced than usual. His cock was at present soft and sated. His Asian complexion was bright against the morning sun, and his eyes were unkind as he surveyed my naked form.

“Get dressed. My wife’s coming back from her parents.” No further explanation was given, or necessary. I pulled down the sheets, and in the process got them tangled around the curve of my ass. I was pulling my thighs away from the fancy silk when I realized he was watching. Slow as snail but sure as the sun, his cock began to fill up, and was at half-mast when he pulled the sheets and gave my ass a smooth caress. “On second thought, maybe we have some time.”

It was the oldest cliché in the book: the babysitter and the man of the house. They were a young family, newly moved into the area, but had heard good things about my services from the grapevines. Baby Kevin was an easy child, as wont babies were between six months and a year – he just needed his milk and his cuddle toy and he would go to sleep like the sweetest cherub. His mother Lisa was the same, a placid, pretty woman, an angel – homely would be best to describe her. 

Mr. Chen – John, if you were nice – was another cup of tea entirely. They had gone through four babysitters previously and all was because they ticked off Mr. Chen the wrong way. I survived the trial period just because being a guy I was different. That, and baby Kevin seemed to lean to me even more than his own mother. That made me Lisa’s favorite, and that seemed to placate Mr. Chen somewhat. Life was good.

I watched the shadows from the curtains ran along the ceiling as Mr. Chen – no, John had his tongue running down my taint. My knees were both beside my ears. I shut my eyes, concentrating on making the pulses of my anus regular, but it was a losing battle as John kept stabbing at my hole with his tongue. He finished his analingus with a deep kiss of my hairless ass rim, before scooting back in order to make room for his erection to replace his tongue.

As I was living with the family, soon I was privy to scenes that were not strictly for my eyes. There were times when John walked down the hallways only in his black briefs, looking for missing socks. Lisa would make fun of my blushes, while John would only pass me by with a strange look. Once I saw John and Lisa fucking in the middle of the day. Lisa had her face turned away from the door where I was transfixed, but John saw me looking - staring, really -and kept his eyes fixed on me as he made Lisa come and come on his cock. Only baby Kevin’s crying could uproot me from the spot, but not without a slight regret.

I looked up as his hand, the one with his wedding ring, began to entangle itself with my hand. There was a smooth delicious moment when the head of his glans first breached my hole, when there was nothing between skin and cock except lube and spit. I let out a moan, which John swallowed. In moments his rounded balls were pressed against my ass, that there was no shorter distance between a man and his pussy boy.

His pussy boy – that was what he called me, his name for me, since the time we first fucked. Lisa was away, a business trip. We were cleaning the dishes – Kevin had fallen asleep earlier – when talk turn to sex, specifically my lack of it. “But you’re kinda cute for a guy. A pussy guy I should say, or a pussy boy,” John had said, slightly inebriated from the wine at dinner. A shudder ran through me as he called me pussy boy, a shudder he noticed. From there to our first kiss and subsequently our first fuck was very short indeed.

I could taste my ass on his lips. He gave me another deep kiss, his tongue mining the recesses of my oral cavity for traces of his semen - from last night. His cock was deep inside me, the firm spongy head nudging against what he called my pussy button, that spot deep within myself that sometimes made me cum without touching my cock. “I’m close,” John huffed, and continued his deep thrusts. Sometimes he could cum four times in one night, sometimes he’d cum only once but then he always made it count. Lisa was a happy wife, and wanted for nothing. 

I banished all thought of his wife and concentrated on contracting the ring muscles of my ass - one, two, one, two, like a fleshly ring. That was what kept him coming back to me again and again. When I did it he said it felt like hundreds of fingers clutching at his cock. It made him feel like on top of the world. “Fuck, you’re doing that trick again, fucking fuck GODDAMNIT I’M CUMMING! CUMMING UP YOUR TIGHT ASS!” 

I felt the vibrations running down the shaft of his erection, pushing out globs of white-hot semen deep into my darkness, into yes, my own pussy. I clenched our hands together as he rode his orgasm out, his wedding ring cold against my skin. He whispered in my ear, “Fuck, pussy boy, I could do this all day with you.”