Caden&Nicolas - Part 1 - Sex Stories

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Caden&Nicolas - Part 1

Date: 5/22/2017, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Boy / Boy, Gay, Teen Male / Teen Male, Author: VanillaNightt, Rating: 73.9, Source: sexstories.com

inches, almost curving more than slightly with a mushroom head that sort of curves back to smile at me without it’s foreskin crown (oh, how parts of me wish I wasn't circumcised)—and tug, and he’s looking down at me and reaching with stretched fingers until I lean forward and he wraps his fingers around me only to tug, to pull, then to push back before pulling again quickly. I nearly buckle beneath his touch, and I start to let go of his member when he sets me free and lies back. “No,” he breathes. “Don’t let me go. You promised.” “I would never,” I remind him, and lean forward to kiss his lips. I stretch a leg over his body until my knees hug his waist, and then I release him, and wrap my fingers with his, and reach up over his head so our arms are almost straight, and his armpits cave in, and I kiss him again, my tongue dashing into his mouth far too engulfed in its own sort of dance that his gladly joins in. And we’re mixing in a way we haven’t before, saliva and saliva, tongue against tongue, and I lower my body onto his until I’m able to freely grind my cock into his. And he moans and pulls away, his body intoxicated by the feeling of movement so foreign yet somehow familiar in a way that vaguely reminds us of a ghost of masturbation past. I let his hands go, reach down to cup his cheeks in my hands, and kiss him with total dominance. He succumbs to my lips, relinquishes all struggles to my tongue, and releases his soul so that I might capture it in this moment. And I ... do. His dark hair waves from the way he’s positioned it over his eyes, curling around his ears. His eyes serve as deep recesses of emerald water, darker than in the sun like the canopy of treetops. Beneath his eyes are the dark circles from his obsession with little to no sleep every day. His pale skin shies in comparison to the rose that so delicately colors his cheeks, and his thick, pouting lips that turns thin when he smiles serve as a pillow to another pair that dares to fall against them. And lastly, the part of his physical features that I cannot bare to do without, is the dimple in the center of his chin. “Tell me I’m beautiful,” he whispers, and I laugh and bite his bottom lip. Mere moments from his face I give him what he wants, and he lifts his hand to hold my cheek. “No,” he says, and I feel him force my hand to his groin again. “Look at me. Tell me I’m beautiful.” Like a crab against sand I inch my way down his body, my fingers poking tenderly into his skin as I venture my way south. And every inch I travel I breath in his scent, until I suddenly stop and really take in the gift he’s offering to me. Slightly darker than his body, but still paler than mine, stands his penis. Though hard and full of blood, I feel the softness of his skin, the silky smooth texture of his head just as rosy as the cheeks on his face. He’s measured himself before, and I’ve bore witness to the eighth number hardly peeking out from behind the measure, and, unlike me, he stands at full ...