A Good Teacher

His bulk was soft, and supple, and surrounding. From far below I could feel his hardness, perhaps the only hard part about him, poking at me, imploring for access. I was more than happy to allow him, but he'd have to fight his own immensity to slip inside, a struggle I found both enlightening and intensely erotic. 

You can learn a lot about a big man from how he handles his bulk. Some simply ignore it, using brute strength to overcome the obstacle of their own bodies. Those would be the unsubtle ones, or even in denial of themselves. Others would quickly bring an arm back to lift and shift their flesh aside trying to get back to their task as quickly as possible. Those were usually the ones who hated their size and would prefer it didn't exist even though it allowed them access to my bedroom in the first place.

Then there's a third type, the best kind. The ones that use their size to their advantage. The ones who are comfortable with themselves enough to realize that every extra inch, every excess pound, is just a tool to bring their partners to new heights of pleasure.

At that moment, I was truly hoping I'd read him correctly as the third type. 

The moment he grabbed my legs and slipped them below the equator of his belly, I knew I'd been right. With slow, deliberate motion, he reached beneath the droop of his gut with both hands and hauled it upward, thrusting himself forward at the same time to nestle his dick at my hole. Then, he pressed, still holding his belly aloft, slowly impaling me on his hard cock until I could feel his hairy groin pressed into my buttocks. Then with a groan he released himself, his bulk flopping onto my groin, covering my erection in soft warmth. 

From the angle I was at it was difficult to see his face beyond his massive, barrel chest and the ring of fat that surrounded it, but I could just make out his eyes closed in intense concentration, as though he was trying not to cum. Already. 

Well, that wouldn't do. I flexed as hard as I could, trying to cut off any potential stream, and a deep, bellowing moan came from above me. I could tell he hadn't cum, but he certainly liked it. I did it again, and met the same response. A third time and he looked down over the crest of his tits and smiled at me. I smirked back. 

He withdrew his full length, a modest 6-inches but almost as thick as he was, and then slowly worked it back in. I could see the first bead of sweat appear on his forehead as he did so, soon dropping down to land on his chest. A man his size would surely work up a sweat being on top. In fact, I was counting on it.

As he slowly humped me his sweat trailed down his front, over the vast expanse of his belly, to slowly coat its underside in wet lubricant. Each thrust would drag his stomach back and forth over my groin, rubbing me delectably. Soon, I was the one moaning and concentrating on delaying myself.

We both managed to hold out longer than expected, he maintaining full and deep thrusts while his excess gratified me in ways no hand or mouth could, and me simply laying there and enjoying the ride. My groin was now drenched in his sweat and my precum, while I could feel the sheets had become damp with his moisture. 

Each thrust was now punctuated with a deep, open-mouthed breath like an animal. Even though each movement wasn’t particularly strong or particularly fast his size meant that maintaining even a moderate pace was taxing. I felt warm air wash over me from above carrying his scent, and it was the most incredible aphrodisiac. 

I started to help, meeting each of his thrusts with a backward movement of my own, our lovemaking now punctuated by the dull, wet slap of my ass striking his cushiony pelvis.

Suddenly his thrusting took on a shuddering tempo. He was moments away. I bore down on him, ensuring his full length was inside me as he came. As he filled me with his cum he filled my apartment with his sonorous moan. He was a shooter too, from the way it felt, coating my insides for nearly 30 seconds.

After I felt him finish I took control, thrusting upwards into that delicious softness that covered my groin, like fucking a fleshy and pre-lubricated pillow. It wasn’t long before I was adding my own liquid to the rich broth that connected us.

He looked down, and from the arch of his eyebrows I could tell he was mildly surprised. So, perhaps not the third type, but open to suggestion. That’s good. I can work with that. 

I’ve been told I’m an excellent teacher.