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Our Fleshjack Story

I let the stream of warm water flow down my six foot three inch frame. I leaned against the glass of the shower and aimed the faucet head directly on my face, opening my mouth and letting the liquid flow from to my chin and chest. I looked down to see my cock standing hard and erect. I gripped it firmly, allowing myself a few firm strokes, before ending my shower, to the thought of Jonathan’s skin against mine.

Sleeping next to Jonathan’s lithe, smooth frame excited me in ways my body hadn’t experienced in years. After my last relationship, I doubted I would meet a man able to fulfill and excite me as much as my career. Seven years of commitment were destroyed by my obsession with my work and overwhelming dedication to my job. I lived it. I breathed it. I desired it. It means everything to me and afforded me the luxuries I possessed. My last partner could never understand the time I gave to my business, but Jonathan….

Since the moment I interviewed him, Jonathan had aroused both my mind and loins. It was probably against every sane or decent thought, but I had hired him as my Executive Assistant based on the young man’s strength, honesty, alluring green eyes and attractive demeanor. Four years later — after all the late night meetings, the day-in-and-day-out of watching Jonathan at his desk just outside my office, the private flights to Los Angeles and Chicago — I had been rendered a slave to Jonathan’s beauty. We had grown close in ways we always desired with another. We loved the business. We loved the work. The love of excitement. We loved it all, together. Jonathan had the eager prowess of me and, with his steadfast business acumen had become a force to be reckoned with under my dedicated tutelage.

When Jonathan walked into my office 24-hours prior, handing me a resignation letter, I felt a pain I hadn’t experienced even when my partner had packed and left me with only the small consideration of a hand written note. The thought of Jonathan’s absence in my life burned me to my core. I would lose the man I had come to respect and desire. No longer would I smell Jonathan’s musky fragrance as I leaned over his desk each morning. No more would I hear Jonathan’s voice over the phone, listing the busy schedule for the day as I secretly lie naked in my hotel suite, miles away, caressing myself to the sound of the young man’s silky baritone. Gone would be the pleasure of watching Jonathan’s toned, tight ass as he walked from the filing cabinet to his desk. It was over. My muse was leaving me.

I turned the shower off, grabbed the towel draped over the shower door and stepped out. As I haphazardly dried my hair and let the cool air of the morning dry skin, I looked out beyond the bathroom door to see Jonathan still sleeping in my large bed. The black sheet barely covering his cock, the inviting silkiness of Jonathan’s young, taught, olive skin called out to me. I walked slowly to the bed, carelessly letting the towel fall to the floor.

My memory of last night was foggy, but I remember the moment, over cocktails in celebration of Jonathan’s successful start-up venture, Jonathan had placed a hand on my leg and silently communicated to me that his leaving was not the closing of a door, but the opening of one. The master and his student were now to, finally, become a man and his lover.

As I reached the bed I knelt to eye Jonathan’s angelic face as he slept softly. With the palm of my slightly calloused hand, I reached out and touched Jonathan’s chiseled chest. At 27, some 13 years younger than me, Jonathan had a dedication to running to the gym that I had never in my lifetime. I let my hand run down the muscley-ridges of Jonathan’s stomach and watched him stir ever so slightly, turning my body just to the left to allow my strong hands to caress him awake. My hand just upon the top of Jonathan’s now growing cock, I felt lost in a swirling vortex of sex and emotion so strong that my own long, pink cock began to throb and pulsate. I looked down to see it standing rigid and hitting up against the frame of my king-sized bed.

fleshjack

I reached to open the drawer of my bedside table and pulled out my Fleshjack. I was intent on watching Jonathan’s beautiful face arise with pleasure as I slowly slipped my cock between the tight vortex sleeve. I wanted to give my young muse as much pleasure as he had bestowed upon me the four years I had worked alongside him.

I pulled the sheet down toward Jonathan’s ankles. Jonathan’s eyes opened slowly, the gold flecks in his irises shimmering against the light of the sun filtering through my large bay windows.

“Mmnm, good morning.” He whispered softly.

“Good morning.” I whispered back, my voice hoarse and gruff through a sheer wall of sexual desire. Silently, I took Jonathan’s cock by the hand and slid the Fleshjack down upon the young man’s shaft.

Jonathan cried out, his smooth voice causing ripples of pleasure throughout my body. He grabbed my right shoulder tightly and hung on to ride the wave of intense pleasure I was offering him. Looking deep in my dark, intense eyes, Jonathan gave his body to me in bed that moment as completely as he had given his servitude in my office four years earlier.

I jumped atop the bed on the balls of my toes, knees and stiff, erect cock pointing toward the ceiling. With a strong, primal hunger, I pulled Jonathan’s legs apart and massaged his inner thighs as I guided the Fleshjack up and down Jonathan’s smooth, dark shaft. Jonathan felt the suction of the device grip his cock tightly and full pleasure from the center of his body. I removed my hands from Jonathan’s thighs and switched hands, expertly guiding the Fleshjack into my left, never losing the steady rhythm of the pumping. I placed my right hand upon Jonathan’s flushing face. I looked deep into my lover’s eyes and watched as his mouth, wet and glistening, parted in ecstasy. I could see Jonathan wanted to cry out, but keeping his vocalizations to small whispers. I nodded my head, as if to give my young muse permission.

Jonathan gripped me by the waist as his body began to spasm uncontrollably, the firm and textured grip of the Fleshjack, guided expertly by my loving rhythm, working his cock to the extreme. Jonathan felt it grow inside the smooth, textured chamber of the Fleshlight and began to become lost in the sensation of his cum as it rode to the surface. He turned his face toward the window and, as he felt it rise from his body, and was blinded by the beauty of the early morning atop the hilltop condo. As in response to my nod, he let out a deafening cry.

I held his grip firm, pumping the Fleshjack quickly, determined to milk every last drop of pleasure from my new love. I felt Jonathan’s shaft quiver and twitch as he released himself entirely to me. I ran my hand along Jonathan’s cheek and watched the rose color cheeks of his olive skin as my lover lay orgasiming in the soft light of the morning sun.

Pleasured, and pleased, we balled up together in the large bed, the Fleshjack removed carefully from Jonathan’s still hard shaft and placed upon the bedside table.

“There, at the end,” said Jonathan, “I completely lost it. It was so intense.”

I chuckled at Jonathan’s choice of words: the end. This wasn’t our end, despite what I may have thought the night before. No, hardly the end.

This was only our beginning.

Submitted by: Benny B.

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