Fast boys

This isn't the sort of thing I'd have done a few years ago. I've learnt better now: there is no time like the present. The things that you want are not going to magically resolve themselves without your input and nothing ever fell into your outstretched hands. If you want something, you should take it.

I wanted him.

I took him.

I'll even name him, after one of my friends rather pointedly noted my failure to name him even in conversation. As if it would be bad luck, somehow, and once made concrete I would only too soon be announcing that he has left, or not been all than he seemed. Ganymede, then. For the beautiful boy stolen by Zeus.

So named, we are together. Happily. Disgustingly well-matched. It's bewildering, sometimes. I try hard not to giggle, out loud, on the tube or at work. We are still in that sweet spot of a blissful daze, repeated fucking, barely able to keep our hands off each other. The realms of new discovery: each other's tastes and desire - sexual as well as otherwise. He's been reading the blog, from the beginning it seems, and we've discussed with interest the way that his own submission mirrors my own nascent desires. We become the dominant that we want, and then we develop into something else when we meet others - I feel as if I have discovered the submissive that perfectly matches me completely. It's not precisely like doing unto him that which I want to have done to me, it's more about acts that satisfy me are acts that satisfy him also. We are enthusiastically boyish together, and I am enjoying having an appreciative audience for my masculine persona, someone who revels in my androgyny. And I in his. We form an interesting mirror for each other, roughly of the same height and build. The fact that we can swap clothes is creating a lot of excitement in the wardrobe department, and I'm looking forward to developing an appreciation for cissyfication.

We fall into each other easily, as if we have been lovers for a long time.

Lying in the sun, his fingers searching out my pleasure in my cunt. I can see his delight at my satisfaction, and we reflect back upon each other. His pleasure in my pleasure skin bleaching white in the bright daylight. I watch him bite his lip - I love it when they bite their lip - his cock is hard and snug against my side. The obvious signs of desire are sometimes the best, and I am fond of a good erection, thus far he has not disappointed. The game is experimentation. Toys old and new. Each time we learn something new about what works, and each time we build on the last.

There are certain acts, certain first times that are significant. The first time you put a collar on someone, whether in play or to make them yours more permanently. The first time you experience a sensation that transports you elsewhere, into those spaces within you that you never knew existed. Ganymede and I are moving through first times at a rate of knots. where cherries are popped at a speed of kernals of corn. But some are worth savouring.

I'd initially thought to wait for a "special" moment to strap on and fuck him in the arse. It's one of those significant points. I knew that he was bi, so I'd assumed, wrongly as it turns out, that it wouldn't have been a new experience for him. I started slow, all the same, because the build up is part of the fun and I don't think I'll ever tire of putting things in people. After a while, I selected the narrowest of my cocks, pushed him down and pressed into him. A few experimental thrusts and he wriggles his bottom against my hips - I think the boy likes it. I flipped him over onto his back, resting his hips on a pillow to get a better angle and throwing his legs atop my shoulders. Taking him harder now, riding against the moans, grinning at the way his eyes stare wide at me, grinning harder after I slap his face and he whispers, smiling, "you are a mean Daddy." And he is my beautiful boy. We fuck. I revel in the fullness of his appreciation of me, of what he sees in me.

Later, I put him to sleep secure in a padded leather collar, with cuffs around his wrist and ankles. Tied loose enough to the head and foot of the bed, I give him some movement, and to avoid any accidental strangulation in the night. He lets me know that was the first time someone had fucked him like that, and I hold him, happy that I took him. That I have him. Yes, it's been quick. I know that. But I've been long in waiting, so now, I see no reason to hold back.