His Alpha, My Beta

"I know. I...I trust you."

I want to keep going...I need to keep going, but from this point on, I have to take it slow and easy. If he's not enjoying it too, then I'll ruin everything, or worse...land myself in hot water.

I take a step back, admiring him with a soft expression.

He wiped his cheek and then said, "Can you take off your shirt?"

Until now he has been a good partner, a good beta. He wanted to see my body, and I figure he should get a reward. Throw a dog a bone, as they say. I pull the shirt off of me, standing in front of him. I suddenly feel a little strange. Removing my shirt exposed a little more about me than I expected: my own comfort. Or lack thereof. I've taken off my shirt to go swimming, to play sports, even to cool off on a hot day...but never to please another man.

He looks at my stomach, my chest, my nipples...with a kind of adulation, a hunger I've only seen in women. I'm out of my comfort zone, yet oddly, it is a familiar experience to be checked out by a woman. I don't know that I'm enjoying the idea that another man is looking at me this way.

Then a new sensation came. There was a kind of power I felt in being admired by another man. He wanted to touch me, to please me, I was the key component to his physical satisfaction. Again, I felt powerful, I felt in control.

I am so lost in thought, that as his hands touch me, my skin jumps. His eyes follow his fingers as they slide up my stomach, over my nipples and to my neck, and then back down again. The hands felt foreign to me, they weren't delicate like the touch of a woman, they were larger, warmer, and confident; determined. They were the hands of a man who has pleased other men. And now those hands belong to me. He leans in and kisses my nipple with those pillow-like, warm lips. I'm looking down at his face, and unexpectedly, he attempts to kiss me on the mouth, though I pull away. So, he moves to kiss my neck. Naturally, I am a little emasculated by this...this tender display of his affection, but I know I must treat my little pet gently. Instinctively, I want to push him, to defend myself, however, I show restraint and let him kiss my neck, then my chest.

Confusion overcomes me as I feel his lips land on my flesh. Subconsciously I anticipate a sensation like getting stung by a bee, I'm ready to recoil, though instead, it feels tender. With each kiss on my chest, he imparts an invisible mark of his trust in me and his lust. He is doing this to satisfy me, and I accept the gesture, whether or not I know how to feel about it. I wrap my arms around him to feel his warm body against mine, another living person, exposed, vulnerable, and safe in my grasp. Though every cell in my body instinctively calls out for me to physically stop him, I also have an overwhelming sense to protect him, to restrain myself from that brash reaction.

My voice cracked slightly, "On your knees, now."

His eyes are fixed on mine and slowly he bends his knees, kissing my stomach on the way.

I lay my hand on his head, his face now inches from my groin. "Smell it," I commanded while gently pushing his face into my crotch. He willingly buried his nose between my thigh and my balls with only the material of my jeans between us. As his head nudges my balls and my hard dick, the contact releases adrenaline. The excitement builds.

I hastily unbuckle my belt, unzip my jeans, and then he pulls them down and off of me so that my groin is fully exposed to him. Again, he buries his face in my crotch and begins sucking on my scrotum, trying to fit my bulbous testicle in his mouth. My mind is going wild, I should be humiliated by such acts; by being exposed, by having a man take my dignity this way. But the thing that fuels me to keep going is the thought that this is his humiliation. I am stealing his dignity...and he couldn't be happier to surrender it to me; like the little cock-sucking homo he is.

I grab my erection and tap it between his cheek and his nose.

He closes his eyes.

My precum oozes out of my penis and onto the bridge of his nose. My balls rest below his chin, and he sniffs my shaft, smelling that familiar scent, that masculine scent of a dominant male.

"Are you a cock-sucker?" I ask bluntly.

He opens his eyes to look into mine, "Yes sir."

"Do you live for sucking dick?"

"Yes."

"Good," I reply quietly. "Show me how much you want this cock."

Eagerly, he inserts it into his mouth. Those warm lips, that wet tongue...I wanted it since I made him taste his own precum. Almost immediately, I see a contrast in the way he is blowing me, versus the way women blow me. He knows things, he has techniques!

With a firm grip stroking my shaft, he licks the head, taking care to flick the frenulum with the tip of his tongue.

It catches me off guard, and I shudder and moan loudly; my jaw agape.

Still stroking me, he uses his free hand to cup my balls, brushing his thumb softly across my scrotum, sending flurries of pleasure up through my groin. His fat bottom lip is now teasing the frenulum of my dick.

"Oh fuck!" I gasp, steadying myself on the backrest of a chair. I'm squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lower lip. The sensations he is giving me are so jolting, it makes my knees weak like they will give out and buckle.

The muscles in my dick contract, forcing precum out. Evan slurps it up, and then shallowly inserts his tongue inside the slit of my urethra, not far, just enough to send an electric shock through my body. All of this while still pumping my shaft, and occasionally forcing it to the back of his throat.

I release another loud moan. I can't control it! I've never been sucked off like this before. Clapping my hand over my mouth, I try desperately to keep quiet and not draw attention from the neighbors. Evan is really good at this; a combination of his own experience with his dick, and that of his other partners has made him more skilled than any woman I've been with. A woman doesn't know what a man feels, she can only guess. She doesn't automatically know that a firm grip feels better than a loose one, that the frenulum is the most sensitive area, or that the wrong stroke can pinch the foreskin. Evan does. He knows all this and more.

His tongue is now swirling in circles around the head of my cock, forcing more blood into it. My shaft feels so stiff, tight, and pressurized, that it almost hurts. He pulls it forward, bunching up the foreskin, alternating between slurping on it with his lips and tickling it with his tongue.

Between my suppressed grunting and moaning, I look down at him and hiss through my teeth, "You like this cock? You like servicing this cock?"

Obediently, he remains quiet and continues his work, though he cracks a smile. So sexy.

I can feel the climax approaching, and I pull my dick away. I take a moment to catch my breath, and he does as well. Saliva is dripping down his chin, or is that my precum? As he looks up at me for instruction, I caress his cheek with my thumb. "You did good. You did so good."

He continues to stare at me with those big brown eyes.

"I want you," I said. "I want to make you my mine. Do you want me inside of you?"

With a timid nod, he responds, "Yes."

"'Yes', what?"

"Yes sir."

"Good boy," I grin as I bend over to hoist him up into my arms. He puts his hands behind my neck as I carry him over to the couch. I plop him down, watching his dick and balls bounce.

Leaving him there, I go into the bathroom and open a drawer, pulling out a wrapped condom. I chuckled to myself as I realize the irony that the first one in the new box that I purchased months ago for my female companions, will instead be used to penetrate a man. After pulling a half-used bottle of lubricant from the cabinet shelf, I snap off the light, and return to the couch, setting the lubricant and condom on the edge of the coffee table.

Evan lay there, soft and delicate, again I feel a type of aggression surge through me. I want to be rough, to take him, claim him now...however, what I want more than that is to protect him from that aggression I feel. It's similar to the aggression felt when you want to hug a puppy very hard, you feel the urge but you don't do it because your instinct to protect it overrides everything. Evan is defenseless and vulnerable because I am stronger and faster. I am in command. And yet, I will be gentle for him.

Peering down at him, I cock my head, admiring the shape of his body. It does little for me. I want to make him mine. I have no interest in sucking his dick, kissing him, or cuddling him. With one hand, I take the backside of his ankles and push his legs up toward his head, I note the curling of his back as I do this, forcing his ass into the air, but taking care not to move too forcefully. His little hole puckers. It has an appealing mix of pastel pink and lavender color hues to it. It's beautiful, if that's even something to consider. The dark skin of his balls is now a lighter color as his scrotum adjusts to the warming of his body. I like seeing his balls between his legs. It's a good reminder that I'm going to emasculate a man. As I watch his hole pucker again, I can't help but imagine how good that tightness will be against my shaft. With my left hand, I lightly place my middle and index fingers over his hole, brushing it softly and watching the tightness squeeze itself again. Then I slowly lower his legs.

"Put the condom on me," I commanded.

With an affirming glance, he unwraps the condom and begins to unroll it over my erection. I know that if I take care of my little pet, he will continue to serve me and this too hardens me. I can see that he enjoys being face-to-face with my manhood, and he develops a hard-on. I would feel humiliated being naked in front of other men, my privacy violated, but it isn't the same in this situation. As he fondles my balls in the hot grasp of his hands, I know that he isn't here to judge me. He doesn't look at the sex between my legs with disgust or contempt like a strange man in a gym shower room. Instead, he looks at it with desire, a thirst, or longing for it. I watch him lick my balls and I fight the impulse to push him away and defend my personal space, my boundaries. With my hand placed lightly on his head, and without a word spoken, I give him permission to act on his lust. I allow him to worship my groin.

Enough time has elapsed, it was time to claim him. I guide him onto his hands and knees, comfortably in position on the couch so that I can stand beside it. I empty a few drops of lubricant onto my fingers and wipe it onto his tightness. Making circles around the hole with my middle finger, I then start to push it in, slowly at first, carefully inserting up to the first knuckle, then moving back out again.

Evan's breathing hastens as I put the finger further in him, and subsequently, the sphincter squeezes my digit in protest. That sent a thrill through me, I couldn't wait to feel that against my shaft. After a few pumps, I then extend my index finger so that both are now widening the hole. I hear him gasp. Again I feel him tighten around me, followed by a gradual relaxation. I pull my fingers out and wet my condom-wrapped dick with more lube from the bottle. It is time.

Positioning myself behind him, I use my hand to guide my hard cock toward his tightness which is leaking a drop of lubricant. I know I reach my target when his hole pinches the head of my shaft with blunt pressure. Then I gradually begin to push, fighting the urge to force my way in and risk hurting my little beta.

Evan gasps but then quiets himself.

I manage to poke the head inside, and his hole squeezes to resist it. His body knows my cock is not meant to be inside, and it tries to keep me out, however, this only drives my desire to drill it into him. I push again, and it goes in further.

His breathing becomes labored.

His hole is so warm it's almost hot, and the ring of the sphincter provides a resistance that I've never experienced before. It did not feel the same as the pressure from going into a woman's vagina. This is something quite different, and fuck, it feels great! I push further.

"Ah!" he cries out, and he drops his head.

I ease off, putting my hand softly on his shoulder and giving him a comforting rub with my thumb, letting him know I'll take it slow. Patiently, I wait to allow his hole time to relax. As I stroke his spine with my hand, I am elated by the force pushing against my dick. His body is rejecting me, but against its nature, he is willing to give himself to me.

Human men see their penises as a symbol of their masculinity, and throughout history, men have emasculated other men with an act of penetration. Whether it was consensual or non-consensual, it was a way to take their dignity and claim dominance over them...

"Do you want me to keep going?" I ask.

With an unsteady exhale he groans, "Yes sir."

I take his chin in my fingertips, turning his head gingerly to look at me, and I said to him as soothingly as I could, "Tell me if I'm hurting you, or if you don't feel comfortable, and we'll stop."

"Okay," he replies with that soft-spoken voice that drives me wild with lust.

Evan is my best friend, a sweet guy, and a gentle soul, and I would never do something he doesn't consent to. Which is what makes pushing into him so much more exciting. He is willingly surrendering his dignity, his masculinity, over to me. By letting me claim him with my hard dick up his tight ass, I am asserting myself over him. I am making him mine.

I'm able to push further in with more ease, and he moans with pleasure. I bend over him so that my stomach is against his back, my right hand supporting my weight using the armrest of the couch. My left hand slides up to his chest, feeling his soft nipples as they harden with stimulation. I'm pumping him now, the resistance of the ring around the base of my dick excites me. The tingling I feel on the head of my shaft as it glides into him is electrifying.

My left hand slides down his belly and combs through his pubes to reach his dangling manhood. I take it all in my grasp, holding it delicately.

Anyone that saw me do this might think that I'm fondling his genitals because it turns me on, but quite the opposite is true. Part of me is a bit squeamish about having another guy's cock and balls in my hand. However, no one here is judging me, there's no one here to get the wrong idea. It's just me and Evan. And as I pump in and out of him, I held his manhood simply because I could. He enjoys it, and for me, it's like a little toy I can fidget with. How many straight men get the chance to? I think many straight guys, given the opportunity to explore another man's genitals in privacy, with consent, without judgment, would do it just to satisfy some kind of lifelong curiosity about the size, weight, texture, and reaction it has from stimulation. You're familiar with your own, but not his. Evan, at this moment, is mine, and if I want to feel his groin, I can, and no one besides him can tell me 'no', or shoot a look of disgust my way. And I know he won't brag to anyone else of this night out of discretion for me, so I feel no apprehension about cupping his balls. It's the ultimate freedom.

I slow the pumping to a stop and then carefully pull out so that I can flip him over on his back. I place his arms over his head, holding them down with my left hand. After guiding my cock back inside the comfortable warmth of his hole, I then place my right hand on his upper chest, just at the base of his neck. With a slight pressure to support my weight, I'm pretending to hold him down, and with my hand so close to his neck, I'm exercising caution. My index and middle fingers caress the soft part of his throat. I feel that aggression surging again, the desire to play rough, to force him down...but with one look at his delicate features and his innocent face as he winces from the force of my cock, I realize he needs me to be in control of myself. His mouth is gaping, gulping air, and the corners of his lips curl into a subtle smile of pleasure; the head of my cock must be stimulating his prostate. I like the silkiness of his inner thighs brushing my hips.

His breathing becomes choppy as he shudders and shivers, below me. I like seeing him like this, vulnerable, and yet satisfied. He is enjoying himself. I'm doing something that makes him want to orgasm, and there is power in that.

"Ah!" he cried out again. His eyes squeeze shut, then there's an expression of apprehension.

I must have hurt him.

I didn't even realize that I had sped up my movement, so I stop. I give him a reassuring rub on the chest, back and forth. I do it slowly, methodically, and comfortingly, to remind him that he can trust me.

Feebly, he places his hand on my stomach, letting me know he needs a moment, and I continue rubbing his chest soothingly.

He looks so tired, I think to myself. AT this moment I feel for him, I empathize. I've never taken a cock up my ass, but it does not look easy on his petite body. As a man, when you grow and get stronger, you also have to learn to be gentle with those that are weaker than you are. Because he's a man too, I just assume he can take it; it's easy to forget that I can overexert him.

Letting a moment of time pass, I wait for him to give me a signal to resume.

He gives me an affirming nod, "Okay."

Putting both my hands under his back, I pull him up from the couch. I sit down, my back against the backrest, and he squats over me. His dick is resting against my stomach as he pushes my shaft back into him with a deep inhale.

He begins bobbing up and down.

I thrust with my hips in rhythm with him.

My palms find their way down his back to the plump round ass that takes my tool. I give him a squeeze...so firm. Then I playfully spank him, resulting in a moan of delight.

Evan's face is flush with crimson, he's getting exhausted. I enjoy seeing him get worn out. The constant massage to his prostate has made his erection remarkably stiff and it waved like a wand in front of me. I take his dangling balls in my hand, they feel bigger now, swollen, and the scrotum is soft and delicate.

It's so strange that nature, with genetic replication being our primary purpose, would put our testicles outside our bodies. Even the slightest knock can send a man into pain...squeeze too hard and you can damage him. If a man lets you hold his balls like this, it means he trusts you with them.

His strength gives out and he collapses onto me, but I keep on pumping, feeling my body tense up. With his hard cock sandwiched on my stomach, his arms wrap around me and he lays his head on my shoulder, kissing my neck. It bothers me only slightly, but the cock-sucker is allowed to have his little gesture. I go harder, faster; his labored breathing and pathetic moans thrill me more.

A jolt goes through him and suddenly he gasps, hot cum shoots out from his cock, spattering all over my stomach and my chest. His dick continues to throb and with each spasm, more cum oozes out. Disgust is my initial reaction, but then I remember the countless times I came on my own belly, and it didn't seem too different. Then as my disgust subsides, it is replaced with exhilaration. My dick made him cum; I forced a man to orgasm. I took his masculinity, and then I made him ejaculate, completely under my own control, not his.

I pull out of his ass and then stand over him, ripping the condom off. I point to the cum on my stomach and demand, "Clean it up."

Sitting upright on the couch, he takes my dick in his hand and strokes me off while he licks his own cum off of my skin. His tongue laps at the soaked hair under my naval, then the white gobs on my belly. I watch him swallow his own seed. I made him do that. I made him clean me off like the filthy pig he is.