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Anakin fell back against his bed with a soft fwump, the air going out of his lungs. This week had been more difficult than most—filled to the brim with deadlines from C-Suite jackasses who wouldn’t understand the artistry of engineering if a column crushed them—but it didn’t matter. It was Friday night, and Anakin was not greasing elbows and trying to climb the corporate ladder after hours.
Instead, he was at home, in bed, pajamas on… ready to unwind. He pulled his laptop onto the bed next to him, opening it and navigating to his favorite website by muscle memory more than anything else. Shortly, thumbnails of burly chests and hairy thighs filled his screen, and after a brief moment of appreciation he clicked onto his “subscriptions” tab. Then, it was all screencaps of the same burly chest and hairy thighs, but if Anakin scrolled down far enough he knew he would see those sweet, plump pecs hidden with prim but bland button-down shirts, or backgrounds empty of people at all with only a sex toy lying on some sheets to suggest sensuality.
Ben had been so shy, when Anakin had first stumbled on his account three years ago. It had been—still was—intoxicating to watch Ben slowly shed his shame, or most of it at least. Anakin had facilitated that transformation himself—at least in part. He poured money into this like he had an infinite supply, but honestly… without his Ben, Anakin knew he probably would have crashed and burned hard years ago. The least he could do was support his favorite streamer.
Anakin clicked on the most recent video. The title, when it popped up at the bottom of the screen, made Anakin suck in a deep breath.
“Thank you, Skyguy”
It wasn’t the first time a video had been titled in that vein. Anakin—and other patrons, sometimes, to Anakin’s mild chagrin—gifted Ben toys and lingerie and all sorts of other things, sent to a P.O. box half the country away. But this time… Anakin hadn’t been sure that Ben would even use his gift, let alone on stream.
Ben sat on the edge of his bed, wearing a sweater and jeans. He looked like a university professor, or maybe a librarian—he even had a shy little blush creeping up on his cheeks. But the dip of his sweater ran down far enough to see a peek of his chest hair, and next to him on the bed was a realistic silicone dildo.
Anakin’s hips kicked up, and when he spared a quick glance downward he noticed he was already chubbing up, getting hard at record rate for what he was seeing.
That dildo wasn’t just any old sex toy—Anakin had given Ben just about everything over the years, vibrators and anal beads and lingerie and gags, but this dildo… it was modeled after his very own cock. And Anakin had sent it directly from the sex toy company to Ben’s P.O. box, so it had been in the original branded packaging upon arrival.
And, judging by the way Ben squirmed, he knew just as well as Anakin what the implications were.
“Well hello there,” Ben said, his voice smooth and deep. “Welcome to my stream. I appreciate your time, and I hope you enjoy.”
He smiled, then continued, “I have something special planned for today. Thank you, Skyguy, for your generous support and for giving me this…”
As usual, Ben grabbed the toy and held it up for the camera’s view, but unlike usual he didn’t give the specs of it. Anakin smiled to himself, alone in his room, knowing he’d thoroughly ruffled the man. He slowly let one hand trail down, rubbing his bulge to take off a bit of the sharp edge of his arousal.
“I must admit, knowing I have the eyes of such a young man is… It makes me feel rather depraved.”
As he spoke, Ben’s legs shifted open a bit more, drawing Anakin’s eyes down. There was a small bulge pushing the seam of his jeans up, and Anakin already felt like he was just seconds from bursting. Ben—perfect, sexy Ben—was turned on just by holding the dildo Anakin gave him.
Just by holding Anakin’s cock in his hands.
“That feeling hasn’t faded since I received your gift, and I doubt that it will, so we might as well get to the good part. It’s a shame you can’t be here live today—” The fact that Ben knew that Anakin wouldn’t be around because it was a weekday, the fact that Ben cared enough to remember drove Anakin a little crazy, sometimes—“but I think I can give you a good show even if I can’t ask for your preference for how I ride this lovely cock.”
Anakin groaned, and slipped his hand into his pajama pants—his cock was already rock hard and dripping, and he swept his thumb over his tip a few times to ease the glide of his hand. He stroked himself slowly, not wanting to tip over the edge just yet, but unable to stop himself from touching as he watched Ben begin to strip.
Anakin drank in the sight of Ben pulling his sweater over his head, his lightly freckled skin being revealed in one smooth swoop. Ben turned to throw his sweater to the far corner of the bed, then ran his hands through his hair to bring it back from “utterly disheveled” to a “sexily windswept” look. As he did, Anakin drooled over the way Ben’s pecs shifted and danced, not quite shining (yet) but beautiful nonetheless.
Ben’s hands moved down, caressing the soft lines of his torso, brushing along the thick hair that trailed down into his pants. Anakin had had so many dreams in recent years of being able to bury his face in Ben’s sweet pecs, in licking all over Ben’s torso until the hair was wet and sticking to Ben’s skin just from Anakin’s own spit. He knew that Ben was taking his time for Anakin’s benefit, because normally he was a bit more… efficient, about getting into bed.
And didn’t that just heat Anakin’s blood to boiling—to know that Ben had picked up on what Anakin liked, from the DMs and chat messages he’d sent over the years.
Ben popped the button on his jeans, then carefully unzipped. A sweet pink color beneath was Anakin’s first hint that Ben wasn’t wearing any underwear, and then he saw the rest of Ben’s rosy cock.
It was an excellent cock, Anakin had to admit. It was thick and veiny, and the few times that Anakin had seen Ben actually use it, it drove home perfectly well. It throbbed in the open air, and Anakin wished he could get on his knees and rub his face against it not for the first time—he bet that sort of experience would make him forget about work stress forever, instead of just for the night.
Ben shimmied his jeans down his hips, revealing his delectably thick thighs. Ben stepped out of them, and at last he was fully nude, cock standing free of its dense nest of curls. He glanced up at the camera, his flush growing deeper still as he pulled himself onto the bed.
“Now, I did take the liberty of preparing myself beforehand, for efficiency’s sake,” Ben murmured as he shifted things around, got himself ready. “Just because you’re so… well-endowed, Skyguy. Otherwise we might have been here all afternoon.”
That didn’t sound so bad to Anakin, but he could understand why Ben might feel differently. The thought that Ben couldn’t help himself—that he was so turned on by receiving a replica model of Anakin’s cock that he had to finger himself open and ready for it ahead of time—sent a bolt of lightning down Anakin’s spine. He bit his lip hard to stifle the groans that began to spill free from him, soft ones that punctuated the end of each of his gentle strokes.
Ben stood the dildo up in his sheets—the widely flared base seemed to make it remarkably easy. It seemed a veritable weapon, lying in wait underneath Ben. Ben’s cock wasn’t small, but… in comparison to Anakin’s…
“Alright,” Ben breathed out, the bristles of his beard shifting as he sighed, “I believe I’m ready for you. Just relax, and let me take care of everything.”
When Ben reached down to guide that huge dildo into him, Anakin could practically feel those rough hands ghosting along the edge of his cock. Anakin watched with rapt attention as Ben’s hole swallowed first the head, and then every single inch of the rest of his cock. It wasn’t in one fell swoop, but instead in increments. He rode up and down, and each time he sank down a little further, his eyelids fluttering and his moans growing ever louder.
Anakin made a soft wounded sound the moment Ben bottomed out, nearly splitting his own lip in an attempt to keep it in. Ben’s cock twitched and swayed, useless as Anakin’s streamer got his pleasure entirely from what was embedded deep in his ass—from Anakin’s cock.
“Oh,” Ben said, seemingly struck wordless. “Oh.”
Anakin almost came then and there, just by drinking in what Ben looked like impaled on his cock. Watching Ben struggle to begin to ride, his thighs shaking so much that he had to help himself with one arm as well, sent pure lust spiraling through Anakin’s entire body.
Ben let out a soft whine as he dropped himself down again, his face growing redder and redder as he picked up speed. Soon he was bouncing at a frantic pace, his dick swaying untouched in front of him and his pecs jiggling tantilizingly. His lips fell open to pant and groan, his pink tongue showing the inside of his perfect mouth.
“Oh,” Ben moaned, reaching up to tweak his own nipples with every upstroke. “You’re so big—I—I almost can’t handle it. I’ve never needed to come so badly so quickly before.”
Anakin stripped his cock furiously, moving in time with Ben. His grip was tight and harsh, trying to mimic how Anakin could see the way Ben’s hole strained around the thick girth of his dildo. The line between reality and shared fantasy blurred, and for one perfect, endlessly blissful moment, Anakin could really feel the tight, hot squeeze of Ben’s beautiful hole around his dick.
Anakin came all over his hand, his spend making a mess of his pajama pants. His brain was blank of anything that wasn’t Ben—the way he imagined Ben smelled, the way Ben’s little ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounded as his cock spurted in long arcs in the general direction of the camera, the sheen of sweat on his pecs and the puffy red of his nipples. The physical pleasure was almost an afterthought, the mental gratification was so incredible.
Ben had come on his cock—just on Anakin’s cock, without touching his own at all.
And quickly, too—Anakin checked the timestamp and knowing that Ben had lost it as fast as he had made him feel a bit better about how premature he’d been tonight. Normally Ben’s streams were longer, an hour or so. Normally, Anakin followed along at Ben’s pace, waiting to come until he could see Ben’s pretty O-face.
But tonight had been something completely different. For the both of them, clearly. The thought made Anakin feel warm inside—Ben liked his cock so much that he couldn’t hold back. He was obviously shaken as he signed off, his blush spreading down to his chest and shyly avoiding eye contact when thanking ‘Skyguy’ again for the present.
Anakin grimaced for just a moment as he wiped the mess on his hand on his ruined pajama pants—he needed the use of his hand back. The pajamas weren’t quite enough, so Anakin snatched a tissue from his bedside table and dried it all, then very carefully opened up Ben’s tip jar interface.
He’d say he wasn’t proud of how much he donated, but that would be a lie. He was perfectly happy with his support of such a funny, sexy older man. He’d pay Ben every single day, if only it would lead to more videos like today’s.
And, once he was done with that, he made sure to send a message Ben’s way too.
You looked so beautiful with my gift. I wish it could have been me for real.