Snapshot: Not even close

I got the dreaded question that every top that prides himself on being a good lover fears: "Are you close yet?"  ... said in that tentative voice with a little bit of fear.  And the problem was that I wasn't even a tenth of the way there.  A jersey boy with Mediterranean features, here for an extended stay as a contractor, lying flat face-down on his belly and my raw dick wrapped by his deeply warm hole with a vise-like grip and I wasn't anywhere near the finish line.  Broad expanse of a back down to a narrow waist.  Shoulders softly dusted with fuzz.  Beautiful skin.  Unblemished until goosebumps peppered the valleys between his shoulders and down his back as I raked a day's worth of stubble across them.

Fuck with being nice.  I could tell he wasn't a bottom by the way his hole resisted me and gripped my cock like Homer choking Bart Simpson.  I placed my arm on his back and laid my full weight into it, pressing my elbow into that knot in his back that I felt earlier, hoping to distract him from the pain that was to come as I built up speed and fucked all my inches deep inside him.  By the time I let loose, my hands were violently wrapped around the back of his neck and squeezing him as much as he squeezed junior down there and filled him with a huge load that was built up over a couple days.

He rolled onto his back afterward and his cock was shriveled up into a nub smaller than a flake of potpourri.  Fuck.  I thought I was better than that.

Funny thing is that he asked me to come back later in the week.  Go figure.