Fantasy Faux-Job

I've got a confession to make: I want a faux-job.


He's become a devout strap-on lover, but he's never showed any interest in blowing my silicone cocks. They're all simple one-ended dildos, so physically there's nothing in it for me.

Just the mental and emotional of watching him, feeling him suck a cock. Attached to my body. Seeing the blowjob from his usual perspective, as he tastes the fun of mine.

It's not something I'd ever force on him. If it ever happened, it would be because he wanted to, because he wanted to try it himself. So there would be the added thrill of knowing that he enjoyed sucking what I am coming to think of as my cock.

I can see it in my mind's eye. It's my Acute strapped on, small enough to not strain his lovely mouth, but enough of a head for him to feel, to play with. It's turned down so that the curve won't fight the shape of his mouth and throat.

I'm lounging on the bed. He's kneeling in front of me. He gazes at my shimmering pink dildo like he's never seen it before, never pounded me with it, never watched it bob in this very harness.

He glances up at me, as though asking permission. I nod, and his gaze flicks back down between my legs. He kisses the very tip, as I so often have in teasing, and I feel myself slip into that strange head-space I seem to enter when I wear a cock. It becomes mine, and in my head I can feel every caress he lavishes on the slowly warming silicone.

That little tongue that runs around the tip, the rich, plush lips that glide over the head, the hand that holds the dildo steady as he pops it back out of his mouth; I know how each little motion feels when I please him, but turned on me they take on a whole new dimension. The way his dark curls fall forward across his face, the way his eyes slowly close with pleasure. The slow motion of his head bobbing gently on my cock, the hand that reaches up to caress my hip. The way he leans into my hand caressing his hair, without missing a beat.

The motions are so different from what he does to please a woman. They are at once more delicate and more firm. There is little of the maddening tantalization I often put him through before taking him down, he quickly moves into those patterns that send him moaning and bucking. I find myself rocking my hips against his beautiful mouth, though I have no more nerve endings now in that silicone cock than I ever did.

I could get lost in this place. It is beautiful, and so very fragile. Its a place my mind has never been, and it revels in the tenderness, the towering trust and blazing emotion present in this moment.


I find myself almost unable to handle the intensity of the love and trust of using a strap-on together; I end up dazed in the aftermath, descending from that head-space, incapable of anything but holding him close. I might go semi-comatose were my fantasy to become a reality.