Proficient

"Well...  You're a proficient top!"

I raised an eyebrow.  A rather interesting choice of words.  Sounds like a rather formal grade that shaved off a bit of the compliment that it was growing to be.  Stunted.  He might as well have said "satisfactory" or "sufficient" or "perfunctory".  A few too many syllables.  Ironically, when it's good, all you get really is a grunt, sigh, or giggle.

"No, no!" he says, seeing the bemused expression. "It's a good thing.  Some guys are just so one note.  Or all they want to do is slam it home and punch it into the back."

"Aww.  You're delicate!"

He laughs.  "Don't get me wrong.  I like that, too.  Or a hand to the throat or good palm upside the head.  Nothing like a good, perfectly placed and timed smack."

Hm.  Good to know.  I filed that in the back of my head.  It's rare to find a guy that's staying in the same hotel as you, just a few floors down.  Need to remember that for next time as we're both in town for a few days.

But he was a little embarrassed by that admission, it seems as he shuffled about looking for his clothes.  I was sitting on the edge of the bed, so I caught his wrist as he walked by.  He has a good fifty pounds on me and a few inches in height, but my soft hands encircling his meaty paw still stopped him head in his tracks.  His eyes met mine as my other hand landed lightly on his hips, maneuvering him to turn to face me.  He reads expressions well.  And he's easily led.  Hell, if we're going to talk about sex he might as well do it on my lap.

We held eye contact as we continued a little discussion of sexual asphyxiation.  And my eyes started to drop, tracing lines down his bearded jaw.  Counting the few speckles of grey in his auburn beard.  Down his neck and the little spots I found that made him weak kneed.  Down little cup above the collarbone.  Down to his fuzzy chest.  Fuck, that chest!  Fuzz that's been groomed to a length that did not deny his natural masculinity but didn't let it get out of hand either.  My hands snaked up his back, the sweat from earlier cooling in the air and I pulled him to my cheek while I took a long, big sniff of his scent and scraped my day's stubble across to his nips.  My ears were smashed against his chest, listening to the reverberations of thought before they escaped his mouth.  It just took a second before he felt what I was doing and gave me that sigh, mid-thought, mid-sentence, the sigh that I was waiting for.

A grunt.  "Yeah, I'm gonna get hard when that huge load you shoved in there finally comes out.  Gonna be good times remembering."  Then a giggle.

It's been confirmed.  I'm proficient.