Snapshot: Handsfree training

It's not the first time he's appeared in these pages.  He's finally let go of the charade that I'm his only fuck buddy and occasionally whispers soft boasts about his latest conquests.  But of the times we've played, it's one of the rare times we met up in the evening, unrushed, no impending time deadlines to get our asses out of bed and into work mode.

So there I am, standing at the side of the bed.  He's on his back with his head dangling upside down off of it, dangling low enough to accommodate the curve of my cock so that it just glides neatly down his throat.  When my balls are mashed up against his face and I bottom out, it's lodged perfectly in there.  No straining, no twisting, no kinking.  Perfect alignment like sword to sheath.  But then I pull back and you can almost hear a pop when the head of my dick pulls out of his tight throat and then I exploit that curve in my dick to pop it back in.  I'm fully face fucking him by now and sometimes I bottom out and hold still long enough to make him choke and gag.  Sometimes I accommodate and pull back.  Sometimes, he's not so lucky and I leave it in there just a second or two longer as he struggles.

His cock is pulsing, though, straining against the air for some contact but I have his arms pinned down to his sides with my hands.  The weight of my body keeping them down as I lean onto them.  He can't jerk off.  I won't let him.  Not fully.

I shift my weight a little and my right hand moves along with it to his shoulder as if I accidentally released his right forearm.  His hand immediately flies to his cock and I knock it away.  But not after I deliberately let his hand linger on his cock for a couple strokes.  I'm edging him.  By proxy.  I know it.  I'm not trying to keep him from cumming by pinning his arms down.  Far from it.  These "accidental" slips are meant to keep him on the edge.  Even more so, it's meant to train him to get over the edge without touching himself.

The game plays over and over.  I let him touch himself for varying lengths.  Sometimes it's just barely enough for his cock to feel the heat of his fingertips.  Sometimes he gets a few strokes in.  Either way, his cock is still pulsing wildly in the air and leaking precum like a bad DIY plumbing project.

Meanwhile, I still haven't let up my assault on his throat.  He's gagging quite regularly now.  And one of my longer strokes rewards me with long strands of deep choke spittle, dragged out from deep down and I slap it all over his face to mess that cute little mug up.  And then I re-aim and burying it back down.  You wouldn't think he's enjoying it but his dick betrays him.

He's ready.  One last accidental slip frees his hand.  A short slip.  And then I lean in even more and really start face fucking him.  Using the tight narrow opening to his throat to play with just the first couple inches of my cock... or last couple, depending on how you look at it.  Fast.  Hard.  Balls slapping his face.  And then he shoots.  Handsfree.  A couple spurts play out and before they start to subside, I let go his arm and bury my cock all the way once and for all.  His hand flies to his cock and he jerks out another set of powerful spurts, bigger than the last.  It's a cum shot that feels like it lasts a whole day, rushing down a camel's back and cresting over a double hump before sliding down a long tail that ends in a distant horizon.

I didn't cum (yet) and I really didn't need to at that point.  I taught him something new and he gave me an ego boost.  I was drunk with sexual power.  That was enough of a high.