His moans in my mouth were sweet music, filling every space. High notes of satisfaction, our hands clasped together under the covers. I pulled his arm over me, and his fingers found their familiar positions, trying to dig into my skin like so many times before.

He was getting stronger. I could feel it. Every touch, every breath, every effort. He was getting preciously stronger, and I wanted to take him fully. In the beautiful light of the new morning, under fresh white sheets, with birds echoing in from the distance, I wanted to take him over and have him sing like a song, his high moans the most gorgeous sounds in the universe.

His hand slipped down my back, tickling. His fingers traced the curve of my butt, teasing, then found my hip bone and the reverberating touch on my bone made my breath shudder into his mouth. His pointer finger went further, gliding down, and I knew where his hand was going.

With a long moan from me, his hand found what it was looking for. He held me fully, and I parted from our kiss, my eyes half lidded, my mouth open, breathing so hard in gasps, my shoulders heaving. I'd been wanting this since last night, and so did he and that memory made me harder in his hand, making my back arch and my breath catch.

"With my mouth," he said, puckering his lips at me and then licking his bottom lip and I was a goner. A brief wondering if he could do it, but that didn't matter, because he wanted to do it, and that made me...

"Oh, oh..." I gasped, "please, please..." With this, I threw the sheets off of us in one motion. It didn't quite get off our legs, but that was fine, because in the next moment I was helping to guide him down.

Even if he couldn't finish, or do it with as much wildness as before... I wanted him so much it wouldn't matter. Just the idea of what he'd done before. It made me shiver in anticipation.

Because, this was no ordinary blowjob. It was a blowjob that was tailored to me, because he'd learned how to give one with me. Everything I loved, down to the last detail, he'd learned from me and thought that was the only way it was done. I used to rush to him after work was over for this, when he'd finally gotten good at it, and it hadn't taken long for that to happen. On top of loving him more than I had ever loved anyone, there was this. Loving him this much made it all the more unbelievable, but his desire to do it and unending greed for me to be absolutely satisfied due to his own love made it like entering heaven.

I'd seen that greed enter his eyes when he saw me bulging last night in the bathroom. Those eyes told me that he'd wanted to drop to his knees and do it right there. But, we had to be careful, follow what he could do safely, and I wanted that more than wild desire. Now we were comfortable, rested. Now was the right time.

He got down there, propped on his elbows. He closed his eyes, and began kissing my inner thighs, down them, like tasting little trails of sweets and he had to get every one. I watched him, and he looked so strong. Impossibly strong. How was it possible? Was I dreaming?

Then he wetly kissed my rosebud with a loud noise from his lips, spitting at the same time, and I let out such a yelp, covering my mouth with my hands in a loud slap, that I knew it couldn't possibly be a dream. As his tongue entered me, I forgot where I was. My chin went up, my mouth opened under my hands, and all I could do was try to drown out my sounds with everything I had. I lost myself, gone were my worries. Whatever happened, would happen.

Before him, I'd never experienced anything like this before. Special attention this way for me was rare. Most of my boyfriends had no desire to do this for me. They wanted me to do it for them, and then they'd roll over and that was it. Or they'd have their way with me, and that was it. Often, I wouldn't finish, and I'd have to finish in the bathroom. By the time I came back, they were asleep. No "good night, honey" or good night kiss. I told myself that's just what happens after sex, you get tired and go to sleep.

Sana taught me different, in many beautiful ways. How it could be. Sure, there were times where I fell asleep or he fell asleep afterwards, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't indifference. We were just so spent, that it happened. We knew the other cared deeply, and that's what mattered. When he fell asleep and I wasn't finished, I'd watch him for a while, adoring him. I'd finish with myself, and I knew that was okay. There wasn't any shame. Remembering the sounds he made, the way his face was in the heat of the moment, that was enough for me. Him getting off was always enough to get me off. That was different, too.

But most of the time... He'd do anything he could to help me if he was fully satisfied before I was. Sometimes, with him making confused, but deeply happy sounds, I purposely make him come before me so that he'd finish me off in his special ways. I never knew which way it would be, and that was half the fun.

As a transgender man who is comfortable with his anatomy, there's so many things he could do. Sometimes, he'd simply climb on top of me and ride me until I was begging for mercy, his hips rolling expertly, and all I could do was hang on to those hips or his ass, because there was no telling if he was going to use his front or backdoor. That was part of his personal game. And sometimes, it wasn't about his body, but my own. He'd teasingly go to his bedside drawer, and out would come my best little friend and in just a few seconds he'd be standing at attention like it had always been there and he'd take me slowly if I was ready and rock my world.

And then there was my absolute favorite: the blowjob mixed with a rim job. He'd pant for a while, still orgasming a little bit from what I'd just done to him, and he'd get that sneaky smile on his face and I knew what was coming. Like a secret, he'd slip under the covers, kissing down my chest to my belly and beyond, and I never knew what he was going to start with. Sometimes his sloppy tongue would appear, swirling on my tip as he moaned in desire for it, acting like he was teasing himself by not daring to go further, but really he was teasing me and I'd start to go wild immediately for more, begging him. Or he'd start to gently suck on my balls and my head would roll to the side, moaning so deep in my throat from what I knew was coming.

And now, there was this type. The rim job start. The best kind. Because I knew it meant he was going to be focusing on my prostate, and the anticipation was half the fun. It was also the easiest way to give me the most out of the least, and in this way he was a genius. He knew he couldn't do the other types. They took too long, or expended too much effort on his part, but this one. It was explosive in more ways than one.

As his tongue worked inside of me, his hand went up and down my shaft, and his other hand glided up and down my inner thigh. Slow and steady, but that's all I needed. He opened his eyes and saw me staring at him, my hands still over my face. He smiled with his eyes, and made a moaning sound and my toes curled as my back arched, and he moved with me, anticipating this.

His tongue exited and licked, and then licked upwards, replacing his hand. With knowing eyes, his mouth overtook everything, and my hands left my mouth, grasping at the fitted sheet under me. The hand on my thigh slowly felt up my muscle, and it traced where his tongue had just left.

There was no telling what was coming out of my mouth. Desperate begging, trying to be quiet with everything I had because this was my family home, but still pleading with him as I cried out silently with my held breaths, trying to make myself silent, because-

The moan I let out had to have reverberated on the walls. My hands went over my mouth as I breathed in hard, creating a suction of my own as he sucked gently and his finger found what it wanted inside and in gentle circles he was rubbing and I lost all control of my body. His other hand cupped my balls and played, and I was his. Trembling, a mess, doing whatever he wanted with me.

In mere minutes, I screamed so loud as I pressed my mouth into the bed, desperately trying to cover my sound. He knew how to make me orgasm more or less forever, and he was doing it, and he was fully taking everything inside of himself, wanting it more than anything, making the noises telling me so, and everything from the tips of my hair to the nails on my toes was exploding like fireworks, the heat enormous. My body rolled in waves, and he controlled it all so confidently just like he had before.

When he was sure he had gotten it all, he released me and licked his lips, still so full of greed. I was breathing enormously, my hands still white knuckle gripping the sheets.

"Good night," he said, smiling, so satisfied. He laid his head down right there between my legs, in a fetal position. No way was I going to let that happen. Carefully, I gathered my legs safely and rolled away from him. I grabbed the pillows and the discarded sheet. Slowly, so as not to disturb him, I slid down to where he was, face to face. My hand slid under his cheek. He smiled at my touch. He wasn't asleep yet.

"Here's a pillow, my handsome man," I whispered to him, breathing hard on his face.

He sighed, so content. "Thank you."

I pushed the pillow comfortably under his head, and spread the sheet on both of us. I placed my own pillow under my cheek, and my hand rested on the side of his face, from his ear to his chin. His lips were so wet, making me blush even more.

He giggled quietly and cutely as I kissed his face like a thousand butterfly wings excitedly alighting. His smile spread, and I couldn't help but smile with it.

"I planned that, you know," he whispered.

"What?" I asked, pausing in my kisses.

"Yeah. Since yesterday. I thought about how I could do it. I figured it out. I think you liked it." He grinned with his eyes closed, so adorable.

Beauty overtook me. This beautiful person in front of me, falling asleep.

"Ohh," I sighed, my arm wrapping around him and pulling him to me. My forehead touched his, and my eyes closed, loving him more than I thought ever possible. "I love you so much," I whispered to him, every word a promise.

"I love you, too, my Tetsu," he whispered back, his voice so full of sleep.

I swallowed hard, adoring him. My arm pulled him even closer, his sweet face going to my neck, his favorite part of me. He breathed in, making such a happy sound.

How was it possible to love a person this much?

Before I could find the answer to that question, I was following him into a dream.