My lover's cock is gorgeous. Either tantalizingly out of reach hidden beneath a pair of briefs, or mouthwateringly erect right in front of my face, I can't tear my eyes away. I want to touch, I want to lick, I want to suck. I want to run my hands up the inside of his lightly haired thighs and feel him shiver beneath me as I make my way to my final destination. Because my lover's cock is always my final destination—the icing on the cake, so to speak. And, darling, do I love his icing.

So do I have your attention yet? One would hope so if you're any good at visualization. Try my current situation on for size. Jonathan Archer, spread-eagle naked on his bed, moaning my name as I kiss my way down his spine. Gets the blood pumping, doesn't it? And I'm always up for a good workout.

A man's backside just doesn't get enough attention, as far as I'm concerned. Then again, society for ages now has been far too interested in pointing us at all the obvious female bits and pieces, ignoring everything else. And don't get me wrong; I like some of those pieces just fine. A nice ass is a nice ass is a nice ass. Period. But everything is about sleek and smooth, tender and soft, as if hard and firm, sharp and strong, couldn't be beautiful as well.

Jonathan's shoulder blades and lower back are a work of art—a gentle slope gradually tapering down to his sturdy hips. I can feel his muscles flex and stretch beneath my fingertips as he squirms at my light touch. I kiss and lick down one side of his rib cage, then do the same to the other, meeting at the small of his back and paying close attention to that hallow with my tongue. His hips arch his currently out of sight cock against the bedspread. Such an impatient man. He needs to learn to simply enjoy the torture. I'm hardly ready to end this tour of his anatomy.

Of all the male body parts, the ass does get some of the attention it deserves. Usually tight pants do help to show off the dazzling attribute. I swear sometimes Jonathan purposely leans over Travis Mayweather's consol at just the right angle for me to get a perfect view. I should send a letter of thanks to whoever designed these uniforms. I can forgive the three layered mood killer, always a monster to get out of for a quickie, only because of the way the tailored uniform conforms flawlessly to Jonathan's round ass whenever he leans over. God, sometimes it's hard not to give it a sound smack when we're in public.

I nip at one cheek and then the other. Jonathan's ass is firm yet juicy. It jiggles and grinds perfectly when I fuck him, my own cock deep inside him. I love the sight of my penis disappearing into that welcoming orifice. So tight and warm and overwhelming. I part his cheeks and lick my way down to his anus. I circle the tight ring of muscle with my tongue before pushing my tongue inside. Jonathan's hips buck. He's whimpering something but I can't quite make it out.

Should I fuck him? Ride him hard until he comes screaming my name? You probably wouldn't mind too terribly if I cut this tour short, but I have a point to make.

To his great disappointment, I pull back and nudge him to roll over. He does so reluctantly, giving his ass a little wiggle as if to tempt me into staying there. He's such a beggar when he's horny. I give him a smirk as I look into his flushed face and dilated eyes. Jonathan has beautiful lips, so full and kissable. I crawl my way up his body and give those lips a thorough workout.

The male face doesn't get the credit it deserves either. Forehead, cheekbones, jaw, chin, throat—they are all far too underrated. Strong lines can still be attractive lines. Very attractive lines. I make a survey of Jonathan's face with my lips. I nibble and suckle on his earlobe before detouring down to his neck and shoulder to his biceps and forearm.

Arms. Lord, but they can be mesmerizing. They flex deliciously when Jonathan holds me down and fucks me senseless, and oh how they flexed when I talked Jonathan into pleasuring himself in front of me. That had been quite a sight. All of his muscles straining to help him reach his climax. Back arching, stomach tensing, and hand stroking, working himself into a frenzy. I shiver at the memory. Speaking of stomach…I finish suckling on Jonathan's thumb and moved to his chest. Some don't like the hairy chest look, but as long as he's not supporting a miniature forest, I can deal with a few nice patches. Hair can be fun. You can play with it. You can pull on it. You can tie your lover up and threaten to shave it off if your lover gets uppity. Jonathan has a nice light dusting. I nuzzle his chest before flicking a lick around his hard nipple. Male nipples are a wonderful anomaly. They don't really do anything but feel good when touched. I turn my head and tease his other nipple. Jonathan whimpers pathetically, spreading his legs again.

I can see his gorgeous, weeping cock but I resist the urge to make a straight line for it. Just a few more bits and pieces left on my list. I kiss down his chest to his navel, following a light trail of hair. I love his navel. It's close enough to tease him with promises of moving lower to his cock, yet high enough to pretend I don't notice him standing at attention. I lick seductive circles around his navel before twirling my tongue inside. His hands move to my shoulders, trying to get me to move lower, fingers clinging to my bare skin. He does desperate so well.

Jonathan groans when I take a right and kiss my way to his hip, yet another underrated piece of anatomy. I lavish his hip with attention, then follow the crease of skin connecting his groin and thigh. This spot is so soft and tantalizingly close to my goal. This gets Jonathan's hopes up and he arches his hips off the bed a little. He grunts a loud protest when I detour once again and make my way down his lightly haired thigh.

Legs are somehow even better than arms. They're more powerful. They brace my lover's body so beautifully, taut and spread wide. And the vice like grip they can get around my body when I fuck Jonathan on his back is unbelievable. I lick at the back of his knee. He moans and reaches to touch himself, but I bat his hands away. Not yet, love. Will he never learn to take his time?

I kiss along the back of his straining calf muscle and find his ankle and foot. I myself am quite partial to having my feet rubbed. Jonathan swears I purr like a kitten when he massages my feet, and usually I'm too deliriously happy at the moment to argue otherwise. Jonathan enjoys a good foot rub but at the moment I know he'd much rather I rubbed something else.

I stalk my way back up his body and find his bruised lips again. He suckles on my tongue desperately. I pull back and survey my work. Hair mussed and mouth hanging open, Jonathan's legs are spread wide, chest panting, his cock rock hard, a dab of pre-cum spotting the tip of his cock. I lick my lips hungrily. A more delicious sight there never was. Don't you agree? Women are the more beautiful of the sexes. Ha! Jonathan shivers under my predatory gaze.

There's one last place to pay a visit. I lean down and nuzzle one of my cheeks against his thigh, the other against his gorgeous cock. He gasps and struggles to keep sane. I am such a tease, aren't I? I smirk to myself and make for his balls. The male genital always seem to get a bad rap, as if it looks funny or unattractive. I hardly think so. Jonathan's cock and balls certainly make for a delicious sight. I would use him as an example of what a beautiful naked man looks like, prove to the world that men are magnificent, but I hate sharing.

I suckle one of Jonathan's balls into my mouth, twirling my tongue in an intricate pattern that I know he likes, then switch and do the same with the other. Jonathan twists his fingers in my hair. I love the way he gently tugs. I take my time enjoying the feel and taste of his balls in my mouth, before I finally move on to the finale.

The velvety hard feel of his cock always does me in. I give him one stroke with my hand, then kiss my way up the pulsing underside of his cock. He's moaning my name over and over. He's damn close. I take a mental snapshot of him straining, teetering on the edge. I must remember this for those long hours in the Armory away from him.

The salty, musky, slightly bitter taste of him is still scrumptious after all these months together. I lick away the bead of semen on his tip and then engulf the head of his penis with my warm mouth, tongue working overtime against that sensitive head. I stroke the rest of his cock in time with my bobbing, sucking mouth. My other hand rolls and tugs gently at his balls.

Jonathan's hips jerk up as his whole body seems to go rigid, then he cries out, his seed filling my mouth. I swallow greedily, stroking and sucking every last drop I can out of him. Mine. All mine.

Finally Jonathan goes limp, panting heavily, and I lick my lips smugly while cleaning him up thoroughly. His cock, his legs, his ass—all mine. Aren't I a lucky bastard? I just can't get enough of this man. I move up and lie beside him as he collects himself. I'm good at what I do, what can I say? Plus, I have quite the man to inspire me.

After a moment, Jonathan sighs and turns to me, smiling. He rolls on top of me, pinning me down. "I believe now it's my turn to worship you a little, babe."

And who am I to argue with him?