Roman, Kal, A Stress Release Blowjob and The Mesh Boxers

High-rise window washing during a heatwave had turned me every shade of  irritated, overworked, and sunburned out come Friday. I’m a big, soft teddy bear of a  guy, with golden retriever vibes for days. Not grouchy or a complainer by nature, and,  really I usually love my job. But in this moment, hanging on the 32nd floor of a  building, I was a spent mess and I needed a release. I knew just where to find it too.  

The blinds were drawn down tight in the salon my boyfriend, Roman, owned. The  blazing sun, blessedly, entirely blocked out. He had me at his station, stripped bare,  laying back in his barber chair with my legs spread wide, feet dangling off the sides  with an unconscious sway. The darkened room, cold leather under my hot skin… my dick and balls exposed and finally able to breathe in the cool still air… like a soothing  salve. My own paradise.  

The most soothing part, though, was the beautiful human hovering over me. All of  5 feet nothing, with huge bright eyes and a smile that filled his whole face. Dark skin  and thick brown hair. Wiry body filled with kinetic energy; the opposite of my tall,  lumbering, furry dad bod in every way. But, fuck, I didn’t care, somehow, he was mine.  My little angelic darling.  

He looked down at me and let his tongue slide across his top lip, across his smile.  Always smiling, of course he was. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Kal, all your  stress is about to go ‘poof’. You’ll be my Sugar Bear, mi gran osito de azúcar, again in  minutes. Ok?” He laughed and I watched that smile disappear between my thighs. My  cock was already half full and vibrating with anticipation of lips about to be wrapped  around it. My joy was immediate as the weight of one of my balls was engulfed in wet  warmth. One ball, then switching to the other. Sucking and licking at them, across  them, down my taint. All slow and soft. Lulling the sour mood right out of me.  

He was humming happily too, just lazily pleasuring the life into me. The slow  moving tongue never lifting. Running itself up and down my shaft, barely glancing the  head until that alone almost sent me right over the edge. With all the ease in the  world, he wrapped his mouth around the tip, tonguing nice and firm at my leaking  head. Slipping through the slit, swallowing the pre-cum with a hidden smile… Bliss.  

Time was meaningless. I was moaning and shifting, trying to shove more of my  length in. He popped his mouth off, grinning, “You want something more?” 

Mmhmm… he was petting and rubbing his hands through my belly and chest hair,  looking through glassy eyes and spit-slick lips… If I could purr, I would be. “Maybe  you want me to take you deeper?” Those fingers massaging my pecs, tugging at my  nipples, near twirling through the hair now. “Maybe if I twist the base like this…” One  hand dropped to the base squeezing with a spiraling grip, “What if I fondle your balls  too… would you like that.” My moans and writhing in the chair should be answer  enough, right? “Hmm, yeah I think you’d like that. You gonna cum down my throat?  Let me swallow you… taste you? Me quieres, cariño, ¿no?” Oh, I want that. I want  you… I want all of that and you. Through the haze of that want, I must have mumbled  an incoherent pile of “please” and “yes”, because, he deep-throated me to his fist.  

He kept up the mercilessly slow pace too. Sucking hard and swirling his tongue,  while his lips pulsed and suckled my length. The gentle massage of my balls with  fingertips skating along my taint. He went on and on, my little torture artist. My  begging must have gotten to him because, finally, he started to work the rhythm a  little faster, the deep sucking and drag of a hand along the shaft to follow. Twisting  and putting pressure just under the base of the head with his tongue. It was  everything. I was squirming in erotic pleasure and uttering strings of filthy thoughts.  

The hand moved off my balls. I could feel him collecting spit on his fingers. I tilted  up and spread my legs wider, shoving them back as best I could in my position.  Shamelessly presenting my hole, begging for even a graze of contact. That small  finger circled my entrance and I went feral. He pressed the finger in and I grabbed his  hair, pulling as gently as I could in my state and slammed my dick further into him.  

The wanton moan that fell out of him erased any guilt of being too rough. He was  sputtering and choking in pleasure-laced pain as I fucked myself with his mouth.  Desperately working the muscles in his throat, sucking and twisting around my  throbbing cock, he had me so close, so close. My abdomen tightened, “I’m going to  cum for you… you want it, Roman?” He answered with a second finger.  

There couldn’t be any air left in his body, he was relentless. Fingers slamming in  and out with the tips curled massaging my prostate with each stroke. He had me  sucked in so ever-loving tight. I was in ecstasy. Lost. Gasping for breath, moaning  wildly, shifting, and grinding into every sensation. A few last flicks of his tongue  through my slit and I threw my head back and came in thick hot spurts down his  clenched throat. He swallowed all he could at his angle, the rest dripped down his fist.  Using the other hand to rip his pants down just enough to free his own cock, he  dropped the cum-slick hand to his own aching member. He only had to stroke a few times when he erupted in a shaking orgasm, spilling his own thick stripes of cum on  the floor.  

His lips stayed wrapped around me until my shaft went soft. Easing his fingers out,  he pulled off with a small kiss to the tip. Licking his smiling lips, he laid his head on my  belly. I stroked my hand through his hair, around his ear and down his neck. “I don’t  know how I ever got so lucky, but, thank you, Roman. It was just what I needed.” He  nestled his head in and said, “Haría cualquier cosa por ti mi osito de azúcar. For you,  anything.”  

Eventually, he grabbed a cool wet towel and cleaned us up. He picked up a small  box from his station and, with an uncharacteristic hesitation, handed it to me. He  looked at the ground and started babbling, “We are going to underwear night at the  club…. I thought… I mean… you said you’d never wear a matching outfit with me…  you know, because our size difference, we’d look… but… maybe… ummm…. I mean  they make both our sizes… but, maybe you’d wear these for me? You don’t have to…  si no quieres, está bien… but… well.. just look, ok?”  

Listen, after what he just gave me, I was wearing whatever came out of that tiny  box. Opening it to find, to my pleasant surprise, a pair of mint green and blue boxers  with white mesh sides. He opened a drawer and pulled out an identical much smaller  pair for himself. I sat myself sideways on the chair, still naked, and slotted him  between my legs. We were the same height in this position. Which I knew he loved. I  hugged him as tight as I could to me, which I also knew he loved, “Para ti, cualquier  cosa. For you, anything.”